There are many people who reach their conclusions about life like schoolboys: they cheat their master by copying the answer out of a book without having worked the sum out for themselves.
quote by Kierkegaard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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People do not like to think. If one thinks, one must reach conclusions. Conclusions are not always pleasant.
quote by Helen Keller
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Copying is hard.
Drawing a figure is easier
Than copying the one drawn.
Singing a song is easier
Than copying the one sung.
Copying is harder than the new.
Copying demands exactness.
10.08.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Don't Cheat
Don't cheat it makes people sad
Don't cheat it makes people mad
Don't cheat it makes people die
Don't cheat it makes people lie
Don't cheat it makes people pi**ed
Don't cheat it makes people bit*chie
Don't cheat it makes people kill the person that cheated on them
Don't cheat it makes people get a knife and cut there self
People everyday die From getting cheated on
People hate people after it happens
poem by Brianna Host
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A Campfire Song
[ natalie merchant ]
[ other voice: michael stipe ]
A lie to say, o my mountain has coal veins and beds to dig.
500 men with axes and they all dig for me.
A lie to say, o my river where many fish do swim,
Half of the catch is mine when you haul your nets in.
Never will he believe that his greed is a blinding ray.
No devil or redeemer will cheat him.
Hell take his gold to where hes lying cold.
A lie to say, o my mine gave a diamond as big as a fist.
But with every gem in his pocket, the jewels he has missed.
A lie to say, o my garden is growing taller by the day.
He only eats the best and tosses the rest away.
Never will he be believe that his greed is a blinding ray.
No devil or redeemer can cheat him.
Hell take his gold to where hes lying cold.
Six deep in the grave.
Something is out of reach
Something he wanted
Something is out of reach
Hes being taunted
Something is out of reach
That he can beg or steal nor can he buy
His oldest pain
And fear in life
Therell not be time
His oldest pain
And fear in life
Therell not be time
A lie to say o my forest has trees that block the sun
And when I cut them down I dont answer to anyone.
No, no, never will he believe that his greed is a blinding ray
No devil or redeemer can cheat him.
Hell take his gold where hes lying cold.
song performed by by 10000 Maniacs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Schoolboys In 1939
Once I saw a black & white photo
taken by a Japanese tourist
of London schoolboys
walking briskly to grammar school.
No planes over London yet,
although German troops were blitzing
through Poland that September afternoon,
and Warsaw schoolboys were
running pellmell to bomb shelters,
Jew and Christian alike.
Grainy photos taken on Polish soil
by news photographers
were of victims dead and dying.
The photo of English schoolboys
was of victims yet to be!
poem by Michael Pruchnicki
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Reaching Out 2
Some days we reach out for someone
when our world is in despair.
We are confused with what life has given us
and feel our life spiralling down.
Then from no where two hands reach out
and with words of comfort
lift us back to solid ground.
The stranger who has helped us
has a face we cannot see;
they are not our god, but a stranger
from far across the sea.
The Good Samaritan whose arms
reach out to everyone
within their hour of need.
Are they one of God’s angels
or are they mortal like you and me?
It is a question we cannot answer,
however they are the answer to our prayers.
Someone who reaches out
and goes to the aid of whom
others sometimes fear.
7 July 2010
poem by David Harris
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Eminent Scholar
Creaking crushed me when I spoke,
A civil chain chased my law of beliefs.
The eminence of a scholar spoke one day,
This denouement from a man was outspoken.
Daily, we are in the book of his writing,
This academic has authority of life;
His debut worked on my time as a day
That warned as a fitness, as a legality.
He is a daydreamer, a worker of books
And life, that worked one day like a book
Hazy and obscure, like one of the laziest
Volumes, yet the eminence of a scholar
Is accused when we begin, when we say.
poem by Naveed Akram
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The danger that we have right now are people who get the same information as I do and, therefore, think they'll reach the same conclusions that haven't traded as long, don't have bear claws up and down their backs like I do.
quote by Jim Cramer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Notorious
Words and music: paul dean, mike reno, jon bon jovi, richie sambora,
Tim carney
Hey, hey, hey
Well theres a lone wolf out on the prowl tonight
Lurkin in the shadows, always out of sight
I said, little girl, dont you hesitate, cause youre usin live bait
Senorita, solitaire, you got a certain kind of savoir-faire
Cause youre notorious (notorious), everything you want,
Everything you need
Cause youre notorious (notorious), every mothers nightmare,
Every schoolboys dream
Everybody by name, every trick in the book
Everywhere that she goes she gets those dirty looks
I said, little girl, dont you hesitate, cause youre usin live bait
Senorita, solitaire, you got a certain kind of savoir-faire
Cause youre notorious (notorious), everything you want,
Everything you need
Cause youre notorious (notorious), every mothers nightmare
Every schoolboys dream
Lock me up, I want to be your prisoner
Lock me up, I want to be your slave
I said, little girl, dont you hesitate cause youre usin live bait
Senorita, solitaire, you got a certain kind of savoir-faire
Cause youre notorious (notorious), everything you want,
Everything you need
Cause youre notorious (notorious), every mothers nightmare
Every schoolboys dream
Cause youre notorious (notorious), everything I want,
Everything I need
Cause youre notorious (notorious), every mothers nightmare
Every schoolboys dream
Every schoolboys dream, oh yeah
Lock me up
song performed by by Loverboy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Master Of Life
He is the master
the master of life
who attributes his success
to all people
he has so far met...
good ones taught him
how to live and
bad ones showed him
how not to
both of them he doesn't forget...
He attributes his success
to all people
he has so far met.....
He is master
the master of life..
he will remain forever...
poem by Mugdha Khedkar
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Grammar School Days
Once I saw a black and white photo
taken by a Japanese tourist -
English schoolboys sauntering
down a street in London
on their way to grammar school.
The sky clear of bombers
overhead that September morning-
I thought of Polish schoolboys
as they ran pellmell through rubble
seeking shelter from the German
blitzkreig that same day in September.
Grainy newsprint photos of the dead
and dying in Warsaw ghetto streets
appeared soon enough and replaced
the image of English schoolboys
taken by the tourist on holiday.
A holocaust on the horizon
and we slept on in peaceful dream.
poem by Michael Pruchnicki
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The person who is his own master cannot tolerate another boss. It's better to be without a book than to believe a book entirely. When economy goes south, people get political.
So, how to stay inside the world of entertainment without actually getting another job? I felt the only logical answer was to become a novelist. So I wrote the first book - driven by some very real feelings of desperation - and it worked.
The stupidity of people comes from having an answer to everything. The wisdom of the novel comes from having a question for everything... it seems to me that all over the world people nowadays prefer to judge rather than to understand, to answer rather than to ask, so that the voice of the novel can hardly be heard over the noisy foolishness of human certainties.
Milan Kundera in Interview on The Book of Laughter and Forgetting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As I Write This Poem
as i write this, she is with someone else,
a friend, i do not really know. I do not dare ask.
i do not like any answer. for what i have are just questions.
as i write this, the people around me are talking within themselves.
half-naked. copying their books. talking loudly among themselves.
friends, yes they are friends, and they say they belong to one another.
someone stands to take a look at me.
as though i am a tree. another one stares at me. as though i am a bird.
i hear a phone ringing.
it is not stopping. she says she is waiting outside the door.
i am not a tree. i am not a little bird.
with her waiting for me, they looked at me,
confused.
i do not dare tell them, i am a man
and this is not about love. this is about
my soul
she is my soulmate waiting. and she says
she can wait that long. whatever. wherever. whenever.
then they start doing their own affairs.
one reads back his book. the other goes back to his seat.
and then they stopped talking.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Answered Prayer
Every problem has solutions
Look inside your heart, see what you might find
You can draw your own conclusions
Theres summer in your soul, winter in your mind
I love, I love, I love you
I need, I need, I need you there
I love, I love, I love you
Let me be your answered prayer
(answer my, answer my, answer my prayer)
Answered prayer
(answer my, answer my, answer my prayer)
Dont cry, tears dry
Answered prayer
(answer my, answer my, answer my prayer)
Unhappy for a long time
A subtle shade of blue, indigo, thats you
You say that loves so hard to find
It just eluded you, Ive been eluded, too
I love, I love, I love, I love you
I need, I need, I need you there
Ive got to, got to, got to have you
Let me be your answered prayer
(answer my, answer my, answer my prayer)
Answered prayer
(answer my, answer my, answer my prayer)
Dont cry, tears dry
Answered prayer
(answer my, answer my, answer my prayer)
Dont cry, tears dry
(answer my, answer my, answer my prayer)
Open up your mind, open up your heart
Unlock your dreams, unchain desire
Open up your arms, open up your eyes
Answer my prayer
Truth be told, word to the wise
Open your heart, babe, open your eyes
Unlock your dreams, unchain desire
Answer my prayer, answer my prayer
Answer my prayer
Prayer
(answer my, answer my, answer my prayer)
All I want you to do, all I want to do
Is to answer my prayer, answer baby
(answer my, answer my, answer my prayer)
Dont cry
Now give me answer, give me an answer, give me an answer
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, oh yeah
song performed by by Abc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Drop of Water
Even split
Into two
It continues on
It lives forever
Imitating,
Copying
Its neighbor close by
And imitating,
Copying
Our dreams
To live on
Nature is vigilant
You can cheat the king;
You can cheat the public;
You can cheat your spouse.
You cannot cheat the nature.
26.08.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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A Great Master Poet Wrote
A great master poet told
how nature interceded
and interrupted a architect’s design
and made it’s own adjustments in time
but that the master designing artist’s eye,
his mind, comprehended
the difference and from it found
a brilliant answer to where
the problems were
and yet a man of the book
took it upon himself
to declare the designers work
as a copy of strokes
made by the hand of God
which lead to the ruination
of that master architect.
Now if we follow this argument
every poem, even every thought,
every painting
about nature’s splendour
or even the beauty of the human being
or whatever,
you could connect to God or His creation,
even when we sing words, paint pictures
and create art
it does not belong to the author
but to the Lord God and his church.
l’Envoi
If you take the artist away
from designs, verses, paintings, music
(from whatever art)
it will not be there
and it will not exist,
which leaves me to conclude
that some men of the holy book
do claim in the name of the divine
that which does not belong to them
or their church.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Why.............?
The American book of 'why',
The Asian book of 'why',
The European book of 'why',
The African book of 'why',
The Australian book of 'why',
The most asked question in the valley of world events;
Especially when one explodes a bomb!
The Christian book of 'why',
The Muslim book of 'why',
The Jewish book of 'why',
The Hindu book of 'why',
The Krishna book of 'why',
lLife is like the yeast which makes the bread rise;
But, the writer always has his or her own mind.
The Pagan book of 'why',
The Buddhist book of 'why',
The Protestant book of 'why',
The Confucian book of 'why',
To all life's aspects with the remaining books of 'why';
Poetry is the literature that muses with the mind.
Shall the trumpet be blown in the city and,
The people will not be afraid?
Seven bulls and seven rams,
I am the planted tree by the rivers of waters.
I am very young in years but,
The word 'why' is the question that goes around easily.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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