Quotes about asset, page 12
Physics Class
He enters the wooden door
Blue polo, that familiar scent
Quite ready and calmly standing
With some white powdery thing
I open my half-filled notebook
And I uncover my old calculator
Grabbed my pen from my pocket
With my brain as my only asset
Another problem from the book
Now we're solvin in our seats
Computin speed and velocity
Fillin our brains with atrocity
Focus, analyze and think
Just one miss and you're ruined
Small mistakes, slash half a point
Quizzes and exams, bloodstained
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poem by Ben Henry Baang
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New Year Resolution
Ah! Another fleeting year has passed,
In slackness I ruthlessly lavished,
“Time” the most precious asset of life.
Nothing I did to be esteemed,
Only the false vows I made,
Deceived myself and the fellows too,
Built the high walls of illusions,
The spiders of follies wove,
The cobweb of confounding confusions.
I just have peeped into the inner-self,
And wildly shocked to discover,
The container with numerous holes
In the bottom; and all sooty black,
The coins I dropped, passed rattling,
Through the dismal hollowness,
To the other side unnoticed,
Spoiling the hard-earned stock.
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poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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I'ev got you
I've got you right here
running through my mind,
towards the finish line yet unclear,
advancing with the threads of time.
Shadows of your love coming nearer,
to the labyrinth where hopes unwind,
I've got you serenading into my ear,
piercing tune with stitches that bind.
My soul to yours sweetly entwined,
upon a road paved with bliss to burst,
in splendor we’ll embrace a life sublime,
and love each other into fading dust.
When day has worn away towards sunset,
I've got you when the nights turn cold,
Having formed by minds our liquid asset,
You are greater value than paved gold.
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poem by Gerry Legister
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Affliction
Stroke of a heartless son
Desirably remained an unschooled rascal
Plunging ischemic into a father's mind
Sweep-swindling all the travail of asset
The father's cumulated..
Educated brat, conspiring wife
Plotted to be berserk
Paralysing the father
To be bundled empty of life
The father's cumulated..
Modern daughter of arrogance
Literate to be modest in secret eloping
Stupefying yearnest alliance -negotiations
To attack the heart's wishes
The father's cumulated..
Disagreeing a wedlock of orthodoxality
Bunking in spinsterhood of overweighed hubris
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poem by Indira Renganathan
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One Might Laugh At This
One might laugh at this but it is not a joke
He thinks the 'Indian Myna' is about Indian Culture one must feel for the poor bloke
He does not know that the myna is a bird born with wings for to fly
That ignorance is bliss to him has to apply
His right to his opinions him none should deny
But why he comments on others one has to wonder why
Since he hasn't a clue what he's talking about
Of his lack of knowledge he doesn't leave one in doubt
Why he should think that an indian myna should have anything to do with Indian Culture seems perplexing to me
As knowledge goes he is one in poverty
I do honestly feel he should call it a day
By that I mean give writing comments away
He does show his ignorance by the comments he write
And his type not an asset to any poetry web site.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Brink Of Extinction
Creating with a solicitation,
A lazy and undisciplined existence.
To identify a segment of one's population,
As dysfunctional.
May for those responsible,
In the implementation of this...
Boost egos.
But cost effective?
No!
Only fools feeding an isolated greed,
Would keep this as their belief.
Only a complete ignorance,
Would perceive this approach...
To be an effective reflection of greatness.
Those assigned to oppress minds,
From the time of their birth...
Would find this uplifting to their self worth.
And not an encouragement nourishing,
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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Married But Not A Parent
MARRIED BUT NOT A PARENT
We have a couple living in the upstairs
sound of music, through the windows always blare
their house is full of modern wares,
yet, they are as sad, as having been lost in a desert so bare
a decade of marriage with pills and pilgrimages
cursing remarks befall on them in barrage
for some unknown defects in their human hardware
harvesting a child is to them, the biggest nightmare
one plus one, how much they would spend
with their bank balances growing in leaps and bounds
the purchasing power they have and wield
is not just enough for them, to fish out a child
not every child is the best asset
nor every parent is proud of his product
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poem by Santhana Louis
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Our Soldier
In a passing parade
With a stern salute
Marches a soldier
For his countries glory
In a moving band
With disciplined steps
He is always ready
For the call of duty
With commands or orders
Alerted in attention
He braves ahead
For any task or mission
In the changing wars
From Mahabharata to Rome
He stood the time
For defence or attack
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poem by Jayram Daya
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Kilts, Ye Ken
Noo, ye ken, we'll see 'em agen,
Waggling doon the street,
While the baton twirls an' the piper skirls
To the beat of the marching feet.
Left - right - glimmerin' bright,
Buttons and cairngorms shine;
While the pipes give forth 'The Cock o' the North'
Ho! The kilts are in the line!
Far an' faint ye hear the plaint
Comin' adoon the breeze,
Closer it comes, wi' the crackle o' drums
An' the lift o' the naked knees.
Left - right - was ever a sight
Finer by burn or glen?
Wi' the tunes ye know, like the auld 'Keel Row'
Tis the march o' the Cameron men.
Pageantry it ever shall be
An asset in any land.
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poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Paper Planes
We get high like vapors and fly like planes
Don’t you try to change our mind, we got money on the brain
If you wanna get the cheddar, you better Kraft your name
On Wall Street and Main, game recognize game
Sometimes we be switching four lanes
Bankrupting banks and ditching Rove Range
Coppas wanna stop us but they are so lame
Boring cash warrants put a claim on our fame
All I wanna do is (Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!)
And I [click] {Cha-ching}
And take your money
High rise homes, limos
Paper planes crash into Zippos
Coming when we get ‘em
Out on bail, above the system
No one in the country can work it like us
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poem by P.R. Prosper
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