Quotes about haul, page 10
Rwanda 1994
The Kagera River rises in Burundi blue
It sweeps down from the highlands green.
But then why the river runs red?
Why does it look so sinister?
It hauls the bodies of the dead
Its currents carry your sister.
The Kagera River rises in Burundi green
It flows wild to Lake Victoria blue.
But then why the river runs red?
There is no change in the weather.
Yet on the waters float the dead
The currents carry your father.
The Kagera River rises in Burundi white
It drags trees and elephant grass green.
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poem by Paul Hartal
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Nipple Tears
deserted as aged
of reason comes the
beloved elder, sibling on the run in a
storm cried and capture
in every
strangers arm of the native land,
as the warm of the sun capture the
smooth skin of the great
chosen servant
of Israel, take the zeal of the
child embrace
oh! shouted and grown in the land
of the vast dunes cover
the vessel of
great mistake, choice the shelter of
cone and bring the highway of respect
and nay! come with glory in the
perfection of the coming day
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poem by Antonio Liao
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Lean On Me
Lean On Me
I was weak and intoxicated
Lost count after the fourth mixed concoction
Empowering me
A social butterfly and a lush
I bloomed into
Lean On Me
Hermione finally relaxed
Without working hard to be socially accepted
The sun shined after a gargantuan storm
I am not alone
A difficult week passed
Another one awaits with the holidays
Just another day in the year
Somehow I endured the long haul train ride home
On a eerie Sunday night
Sleeping a dreamless sleep
Nearly missing my stop
Without interruption
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poem by Tina Chan
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Febbraio fogs
Winds are blowing a grievous fate,
it's cold upon our fingers and dark,
ghosts prey howling on lone hark,
we came in life, one verse too late.
Winds are barking like stray dogs,
alone I wait for your icon to appear,
from our deserted (once alive) Pier,
where you smiled in Febbraio fogs.
And it is strange to feel you there,
you never left the winds' lone call;
I feel the flow in my veins to haul,
a string of fables on nostalgic fare;
And you appear - half on my mind,
'n' half in distance, to fill my eyes,
gray clouds snow from low skies,
doleful turns our dusk and twined.
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poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Seven Basic Machines
'First the pulley. With these window-washers haul
themselves up to the tip-top or drop'.
'Yes', she said, with minimal interest. 'Next'.
'Then there's the lever. Useful for prising treasure'.
'Very well, she said, 'but I can't tell you how I try
never to pry'.
'Well, there's the wheel. Often invented, excellent for gliding
singly, in tandem, in trio or more'.
'Of course', said she, 'and number four'?
'Um', I said, starting to perspire,
and giving my brains a wrench-'the plane, if you desire'.
'I've never been inclined. Continue please'.
'The wedge', I said, recalling that
a wedge could not be beaten for
dividing night from day and dog from cat.
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poem by Morgan Michaels
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The Parable of the Seafarer
The Parable of the Seafarer
Riding in the wave of Penny, watching the
ocean floor of wealth, ready to dive and drown
in the land with nobody likes to see
a shelter comes in the foreign land, transgress
beyond any time, at any deepest sea; the luck
of money gracefully come in the pocket and easily jump,
gone to the sand
wow! a beautiful cherish land, sole care of
abundance ambition, make my dream alive; with
the Lilies grown in a dirty pond, and let the fish
swear to breed inside the cupid heart of the rich sea
come on, at the tip of my hand and hold my
destined wonder to capture my desire of wealth;
find and stay in the Joy of my day, a quest for a
next day of comes uncertain journey
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poem by Antonio Liao
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Ten Thousand Feet from Home
Whatever else will come of this (and I'm convinced that nothing will) ,
The rums and Cokes have set my eyes to dancing as I stand out here,
With cigarette, beneath a moon which casts those peaks in ghostly
Light. It's Leadville once again, July, and I have come to see my
Cousins. I have come to peel away the puffy husk of life lived in
The suburbs, atmospheres below, and be as they prefer to see me:
Savage, as they are, and drunk, and, in a room upstairs is she,
Who rashly said she's make this journey. Her husk hasn't peeled
Away, and her face, face down on a pillow, drunk as mine, remains
So pretty, warmer, though, than all these peaks. I put my butt into
A can and haul myself, unsteady, upwards, to the room and to the
Woman who has come, but isn't conscious, and the bed beneath
The moon and these, most lovely, frigid peaks, to lay, a-swirl, at
Her side. Not much will come of this.
poem by Lawrence Beck
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Fallen Soldiers
In the long hard battle that never seems to end
I watched each of them fall
Soldiers
Commarades
Allies
D ear sweet friends
As I watched each of them fall I thought
'not another one, no it can't be true'
But what was more devastating
Was that I seemed to be the only one who missed & mourned you
Maybe you didn't fight hard enough
Maybe you just weren't that strong
Or maybe there were signs we didn't see
Maybe you were crying out for help all along
Worst though then watching my closes allies surrender
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poem by Tiger Lily Love
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Cognizance
Since I was cognizant about Life and Living
My contemplations took all spins and leap
Deeds took a long haul of transformations
Introspection took me to great serenity
And I reached the level of equanimity in Life.
My experience of discontent and distress
Which I presumed with ‘self-sympathy’
That’s where I went wrong in my judgment
It’s ‘self-respect’ that showed my ‘self esteem’
Turned those sympathy to empathy in Life
I am not what the world construes me to be
My ecstasy and grief are not exterior made
I perceived my inner voice and its power
I have someone inside to guide me
I am the blessed one who hears voice within.
Living beings eat, move, sleep and die
We, human beings who can think in addition
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poem by Vidi Writes
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Rattled
It's been a week since I spotted that elephant
Brazenly grazing just beyond my bed,
And it's been five days since the folks
From the hospital said they could help
Me, and I ran, instead, and it's been a
Weekend of terror, I tell you, from here
In this alley. The rodents can smell you,
And they, and their bipedal vermin
Allies like to lay siege to better-born
Souls, such as I, and I'm cold now
And frightened and would like a meal,
So I'm thinking of giving up. What
Would I feel if I said, 'Yes, sedate
Me, and show me what's real? '
Would my elephant leave me
For Africa's plains, and the rodents
Stop biting down into my brains,
And the white-wrapped erasers
Who'll haul me away promise
Candies and crayons to brighten
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poem by Lawrence Beck
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