Youth Interrupted
Like the delicate tumble of a dried leaf
On a soft, fragile mound of earth
The passing away of an old man
Inscribes no scar
A poignant sigh. Silence. Finally, peace.
When a young man gives up the ghost
It is like a boulder descending
On a floor made of fragile glass
The scattered splinters carve
terrible wounds beyond closure
Pleading for reason that won’t show itself
No one recovers from the sorrow
Not even time itself
It will haunt the future
Forced to remember, to cry the tears of old
To echo the questions of a devastated age
To dread the reprise of a bewildering fate
Is it nature’s revenge when time’s course
Is stopped while at its journey’s peak?
(Written on Che Guevara's death anniversary,2005)
poem by Cheryl L. DaytecYañgot
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Fragile Heart
She would be drawn to me
if i had the scent of wealth.
But for this stench of poverty
that gets her hand onto her nose
and she keeps away
her fragile heart
She would be attracted to me
if i had the bloom of beauty
and not this dull complexion
that would haunt her childish dreams
and stop her heart beat.
the ebb of her fragile heart
He would step into the muddy fate
and swim through stormy seas
only to get time's worth
The measure of brevity
that separates heroes
from fragile hearts
poem by Timothy muggaga
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Fragile
If blood will flow when fresh and steel are one
Drying in the colour of the evening sun
Tomorrows rain will wash the stains away
But something in our minds will always stay
Perhaps this final act was meant
To clinch a lifetimes argument
That nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could
For all those born beneath an angry star
Lest we forget how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are how fragile we are
How fragile we are how fragile we are
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fragile (demo 1998)
Four o'clock in the morning
I close my eyes and consider you
Is this some kind of warning
To let me know you're just passing through my life?
It's a good place to be
For someone like you to take solace in me
This is my fragile reality
For someone as eager as you
Can break me in threes
And break through my needs
To get to the dirt
You learned how to hurt... me
Six o'clock in the evening
I brush my hair and will you to know
Is this some kind of teasing?
And are you prepared to be half as true as you try,
As you try hard to be?
Someone so cautious and careful and free
And why are you waiting for me?
You're steady and stable and able to be close to me
I'm strapped to my seat
The tables have turned
You know how they burn right through me
Why do you wrestle with my right to be different from you?
Why do you settle for me if it's not what you wanted to do?
I'm fragile too
I'm fragile too
I'm fragile too
Only with you
Four o'clock in the morning
I hold your head and take care of you
Are these symptoms of touring?
Did someone you love leave you black and blue?
Sometime, somewhere I'll never be
Aware of misfortunes and torture and grief
This life is a good place to be
For someone as fragile as you
I'm fragile too
I'm fragile too
I'm fragile too
But only with you
Only with you
I'm fragile too
But only with you
Only with you
I'm fragile too
But only with you
I'm fragile too (7x)
But only with you
Only with you
I'm fragile too
But only with you.
song performed by by Veruca Salt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We Are So Fragile
We are so fragile
Advertising lies that are whiter than yours
We are so fragile
They could give us a war just to keep us amused
We are so fragile
I could stay here inside and say its all been done
We are so fragile
Just pretend I never tried, Ill leave it up to you
We are still so young
And it must be wrong but Id do it all the same
We are really so shy
Theres nothing I can do except believe in you
We could always go home
But everyone says this is the place to be
We are so unnatural
But you wouldnt understand, you only deal with men
song performed by by Gary Numan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Song On Resurgence Of The Earth
War
Begins with the tears,
And peace with smiles.
Peace
Is an enslaved damsel that the warriors:
The guardians of peace captured
And imprisoned her
Amid the walls by force.
What type of life this is,
That the thought of death
Never releases us even for a moment;
Upon my colonies falls
Depression from the sky,
And in dread,
The breasts of mothers have dried.
In my infertile land
Peace does not grow;
It is a an indoor plant
Of the land of the descending Sun
Which is exported to favourite countries
And so is earned the foreign exchange.
The deprived people,
Like us can not afford peace;
For us life is harder than the war,
But life in the clutches of death,
Is demanding its own right.
Come!
Let us compose a new song,
On resurgence of the Earth.
(Written by Jawaaz Jafri Translated by Muhammad Shanazar)
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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In Trying To Reconstruct The Self
shattered pieces of self
like fragile glass
scattered on the floor
one must pick the pieces
and glue
the past and the present
and polish the
future
everyday is a reconstruction
a reunion of the mind and the heart
do not be left out
somewhere in the dark corridors of time
embrace the light and take another step forward
for life's essence is always to move on and on
those that stop shall soon decay
they rot and the layers of time soon bury them
in the land of oblivion
come! come with me!
hurry! hurry! time has big wings and too swiftly it flies away
for unlike the mind with memories that may come back
time only moves forward and then forgets
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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For Who and Why
To those who value it...
Life becomes more precious,
When the thought of death and its permanence...
Comes to be not so distant,
In the reality of one who reflects on the years lived.
Fragile is this gift that has been given.
And those who believe,
They can do as they please at a time when they choose...
Often find themselves wishing they did not refuse,
To take that time when it came...
For themselves and no one else.
Realizing who they did that for...
Has either ignored them,
Or pushed them aside.
To show no appreciation.
As they live their own lives!
It is best to prioritize what one does...
For who and why!
Before they see their lives,
Like flashing snapshots.
Passing fast through what seems an hour glass.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Nightmare
The floor has slipped beneath you
and you tumble into that dark abyss.
You look back at what you’ve achieved.
Asking yourself could I have done
that little bit more
and if I ever get out of here,
I am going to do just that.
Down and down you tumble
into your conscience hell
where the mistakes you made
haunt your every moment wake
and you begin to ask yourself
within a screaming yell
help me to make amends.
Finally, you awake from the nightmare
and lay there shivering and sweating.
Eventually you get up
to start your new day,
but does the nightmare get forgotten
or will you do what you said.
That future is up to you.
poem by David Harris
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Our Dreams Within Us Start
So fragile is the mind that seeks,
A peace that seems so out of reach.
So impatient does one like this become...
When a bitterness sits,
To feel invited and welcomed.
And seeking from outside ourselves,
Is a journey never ending.
What is wished already exists.
But our hearts overlook this,
In a desperate yearning.
So fragile is the mind that seeks,
A peace that seems so out of reach.
If we just stop to quiet our desires.
We will realize we have not kindled...
A motivation to inspire,
Those dreams that are our own...
Left for someone else to come to spark!
And that is not the way,
Our dreams within us start!
So fragile is the mind that seeks,
A peace that seems so out of reach.
And we keep this seeking beseeched to plead...
To be fed!
Yet remain so out of touch!
Misunderstanding this need within us,
We can begin to feed in concentrated prayer.
If we spent more time being there,
In it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Dawns Highway
Indians scattered on dawns highway bleeding
Ghosts crowd the young childs fragile eggshell mind.
Me and my -ah- mother and father - and a
Grandmother and a grandfather - were driving through
The desert, at dawn, and a truck load of indian
Workers had either hit another car, or just - I dont
Know what happened - but there were indians scattered
All over the highway, bleeding to death.
So the car pulls up and stops. that was the first time
I tasted fear. I musta been about four - like a child is
Like a flower, his head is just floating in the
Breeze, man.
The reaction I get now thinking about it, looking
Back - is that the souls of the ghosts of those dead
Indians...maybe one or two of em...were just
Running around freaking out, and just leaped into my
Soul. and theyre still in there.
Indians scattered on dawns highway bleeding
Ghosts crowd the young childs fragile eggshell mind.
Blood in the streets in the town of new haven
Blood stains the roofs and the palm trees of venice
Blood in my love in the terrible summer
Bloody red sun of phantastic l.a.
Blood screams her brain as they chop off her fingers
Blood will be born in the birth if a nation
Blood is the rose of mysterious union
Blood on the rise, its following me.
Indian, indian what did you die for?
Indian says, nothing at all.
song performed by by Doors
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Guiled ‘me’...
That is how I injured myself
desiring the right thing,
extracting the reason from charity.
I will now pluck off the rage, the silence,
the exotica from the frozen valley.
Words will become my foes swimming in your eyes.
I was listening to your questions
without becoming a witness; I was my own answer.
The time was revengeful. Show was over.
We were losing the relevance
and guests had departed.
We were becoming the walls of a glass house.
I dread my conscience, a terrible roaring in mind.
Does not allow me to sleep. Values were insulting me.
Falling like an old wall-paper; truth went unnoticed.
Peacocks were dying daily.
I am going to lose myself in the night
of a moonless sky.
poem by Satish Verma
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Pursuit Ghost Echo Events Spectral Stalk
pursuit ghost echo events
still seek prey upon lives
persistently persecuted souls
among us who hear hounds
are haunted by ghost sounds
sounds we dread heard sounds
others told us of heard
in nights that never end
dramatic event defined
memories horrific nights
replay in trapped details
haunting aging memories
violence harass stalks years
sliver glass sharp daggers
pierce fragile victim minds
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Pressed Petals
Pressed between diary's private pages.
Blossoms from one lover giv'n.
A promise made so long ago.
Sealed with blush from ruby lips.
Fragile petals hidden away.
Hold memories of love so true.
Love once spoken whisper soft.
Grown in strength with passing time.
Hold well your secret, delicate bloom.
Release, recharge lover's memorys' magic.
Each time the diary is reopened,
when your petals are caressed.
poem by Kurt Hearth
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A Whirling Wind Uplifts a Leaf
A whirling wind uplifts a leaf
Brings childish laughter midst my grief
And though my sorrow tears at me
There’s also room for Lana’s glee.
Some said, “Don’t take her to the grave”
Why force the young to be so brave
When faced with fate? She seems okay
As long as leaves and winds will play.
And then Grandmother looks our way
I see the wrinkles, grief, and gray
But see the twinkle in her eyes
As she sees Lana’s fingers rise
To catch that leaf that seems to fly
Into my daughter’s hands; I sigh
Her laughter sounds; what can I do
Then I hear Grandpa laughing, too.
My laughing Lana played her part
For I heard Grandma’s “Bless her heart.”
And knew in mine that more than I
My daughter knew when not to cry
Yes, tears will come on future days
When we remember Grandpa’s ways
But not today—let sorrow wait
While Grandpa’s life we celebrate.
poem by Mac Wilkey
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Hasta la Vista
The dawn of Tigris soaks with burnt blood
Clamps every soul
Allures every moment of grilling madness
Each dropp of boiling tears
Reflect a living hell
No more sign of hungry Vultures above
Reincarnation will haunt tormentors
You can run but the ghost of you will never rest
The death arena cries and floods your sins
The sunrise of punitive horizon cracks
Till the end of Earth
The naive color of red
Will be the effigy of premature death
When the lips of the skies
Kiss the fragile ground
Until the seeing
Hasta la vista
poem by Sulaiman Mohd Yusof
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Your Sunshine
A wind breaks fragile hearts
Through the icy lands it blows
Gestalt cathartic soul searching
Walls of the Iron Age
Pride of Alexander’s armies
I am defeated and alone
You are gone and wounded
I kneel and bring these words
Time must bring summer again
When warm breezes sigh
When tears are dried
Every love that remains is tried
Cold winds cannot defeat you and I
Forgiveness changes every goodbye
I am so sorry I made you cry
My heart in winter awaits your sunshine
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Glass Heart
Glass heart
fragile and frail
beautiful and naive
do you fear to fall
to break forever?
Glass heart
fragile and frail
beautiful and naive
do you fear the hammer
that will break you forever?
Glass heart
fragile and frail
beautiful and naive
do you dread the cold
that could break you forever?
Glass heart
fragile and frail
beautiful and naive
together we'll face the fear
and break forever....
poem by Deana Rode
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Fragile
Did you think I was fragile?
Do you see me as weak?
Have you wondered,
How on earth I'm this bleak?
When have you pondered,
Who's is that sorrow?
Can you possess her,
Couldn't you follow?
Did you think of me as fragile?
Do I seem tongue tied?
Have you ever noticed,
That pain in my eyes?
When have you seen,
That shadowy dark?
Can you realise,
Can't reopen my heart.
poem by Anne Harkonen
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Snowflakes
The cloud of winter
cloaking the sun.
Seems to amplify
an already loud quiet.
Noiselessly my footsteps fall
on the snow covered path.
As leisurely I stroll through
the hibernating forest.
Swirled to and fro
by a northern zephyr.
Graceful snowflakes
silently dance around me.
Pirouetting and floating
on their earth bound journey.
To join others that form
the deep carpet of white.
Catching some as they drift by.
With marvel I query.
How can these shapes
be so different one from another?
So fragile so beautiful
yet sadly so fleeting.
Like a dream
passing through slumber.
Snowflakes their existence
by no means immortal.
For will come the day
their fate realized.
When breezes waft warm
these frozen works of art.
Their destiny be nectar
to a waking thirsting earth.
Until such time
I will watch wonder and thank
Mother Nature.
For her unselfish gift of beauty.
poem by Kurt Hearth
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A Summer In Tuscany
Do you remember, Lucy,
How, in the days gone by
We spent a summer together,
A summer in Tuscany,
In the chestnut woods by the river,
You and the rest and I?
Your house had the largest garden,
But ours was next to the bridge,
And we had a mulberry alley
Which sloped to the water's edge.
You were always talking and laughing
On your side of the hedge.
How many sisters and brothers,
Lucy, then did you own?
Harriet and Francis and Horace
And Phyllis, a flower half--blown.
I liked you more than the others,
For you had the longest gown.
What has become of the laughter,
What of the mulberry trees?
Is there no record in Heaven,
No echo of days like these?
Francis is married and happy
And Horace beyond the seas.
Phyllis was first to desert us,
She had no soul for the Earth
But lingered a guest impatient
Alike of our sorrow and mirth.
Death's step to her on the threshold
Seemed news of a glorious birth.
Harriet, whose eyes were the brightest
The fullest of innocent guile,
Has hidden her joy and our sorrow
Under a Carmelite veil.
They call her the ``mother abbess.''
She has hardly leisure to smile.
Do you remember the ponies
We used to ride on the hill,
Every knee of them broken,
Every back like a quill,
Cesare, Capitano,
Milor and Jack and Jill?
High o'er the plains and the valleys,
Wherever our leader led,
We two, closest of allies,
Were with him still in his tread,
Sworn to be first on his footsteps,
To serve him alive or dead.
Dead--ah dead! Who could think it?
The laughter so strong on his lips
Had seemed an elixir of living.
Where now are his jibes and his quips,
The fair paradoxes he flung us,
The fire of him?--Lost in eclipse!
All are scattered and vanished,
Laughter and smiles and tears,
Gone with the dust on the sandals
Which cling to the feet of the years.
Time has no time to remember,
And Fortune no face for our fears.
Do you remember, Lucy,
The day which too soon had come,
The first sad day of the Autumn,
The last of our summer home,
The day of my journey to England
And yours to your convent at Rome?
We rose with the dawn that morning--
--The others were hardly awake--
And took our walk by the river.
Lucy, did your heart ache?
Or was it the chill of the sunrise
That made you shiver and shake?
Lucy, the dog rose you gave me
Still lies in its secret place.
Lucy, the tears, my fool's answer,
Have left on my cheeks a trace.
The kiss you gave me at parting
I yet can feel on my face.
These are the things I remember.
These are the things that I grieve,
The joys that are scattered and vanished,
The friends I am loath to leave.
I grudge them to death and silence
And age which is death's reprieve.
Vanished, forgotten and scattered,
All but you, Lucy, and I,
Who cling some moments together
Till Time shall have hurried us by:
A moment and yet a moment,
Till we too forget and die!
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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