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Hole in the Wall

beauty resemble, the newness of what all things
seen by the naked eyes, the inner aura lure to
seek what the tranquility of the soul in viewed,
letting it go beyond human imagination, as
nature rebirth the ultimate aesthetic passion
of God of his creation

every wall has its hole, pepping the inside, is
building outside, breaking the fears is but
holding the strength in the wall, creating force
that stands for a fall, waiting to roll, as the day
role the light and the night waited the sun to
goes down, in the sky it standby and say
goodbye

look up the sea the current that passed by, the
rock murmurs, beneath the heavy blue water,
where the fish like to stay, as the seagull watch
the mass of fish float to surface like a dunes, the
turbulent smiling wind dazing to land in the

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poem by Antonio Liao
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Worlds Apart

somewhere behind the wall an the glass, my barrier
I can still see her
it's not just the physical distance
it's the invisible wall of my circumstance
I can't talk to you, not just because you're not here
but because you could never hear
with open ears and understand why
and now you can never know me
because I've hidden from you, m all you may do is sigh
and wonder if I; m something more, but never see
now we're worlds apart and e can't talk
I can't speak to you through the glass
I cannot show who I am or how I feel
never to you, not to you, not to who I cherish, not the one i hold dear
not one i trust and want to hold near
can never tell the one who ought to know it all
never tell the one who could break the wall
no. not you, because i need this wall
it keeps me in, but protects me from the love we could share
HAHA who can i kid? i would never even dare

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poem by David Knox
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Confessions

What is he buzzing in my ears?
"Now that I come to die,
Do I view the world as a vale of tears?"
Ah, reverend sir, not I!

What I viewed there once, what I view again
Where the physic bottles stand
On the table's edge, -is a suburb lane,
With a wall to my bedside hand.

That lane sloped, much as the bottles do,
From a house you could descry
O'er the garden-wall: is the curtain blue
Or green to a healthy eye?

To mine, it serves for the old June weather
Blue above lane and wall;
And that farthest bottle labelled "Ether"
Is the house o'ertopping all.

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poem by Robert Browning
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Mirror Mirror On The Wall

she turn to him for his thoughts,
even a simple whisper,
anything she said would do
to break up this silence
between us two,
but she heard nothing
than headed on home
feeling lonely on her own,
saying to her self i wanting his love,
needing his touch and all i got
was nothing much,
than she headed to the mirror starting to cry
saying mirror, mirror, on the wall
am i not pretty, and cute
at lease I think i am, i can also be funny
if given the chance, maybe that would bring me
some of his sweet romance, so please
me mirror, mirror on the wall won't you answer me
but all she heard was nothing not even from him,
and the others got something so she believe

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poem by Bruce Martone
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Sign On The Wall

There's a sign on the wall and I wonder what could it mean?
there's much in the world that people do without explaining.
Is it a symbol of hope and joy just another person's dream?
a message of love and peace or someone's silent scream?
Is it a sign of the times that the whole world now is facing?
a mark of gloom and despair perhaps well worth noticing?

There's a sign on the wall that has just appeared lately
something never before seen and yet which seems stately.
Is it some kind of warning by an unknown human hand?
a script or note for all concerned to see throughout the land?
Or is it an omen of great significance heralding the times that are coming?
a signal of change conveying special tidings of what we'll be all undergoing?

There's a sign on the wall which has suddenly appeared everywhere
a work of an unseen hand that's showing as black and white on there.
Is it a piece of art perhaps being of some extra-terrestrial origin,
a souvenir left behind reminding us all that they're genuine?
Or is it just one more puzzle to figure out baffling to the mind?
another addition to those mysteries of the ages that beset mankind.

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poem by George Krokos
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The Vision Was Quite Clear

The vision was quite clear.
At first, it began with a map.
I was walking in a forest.
I was holding the map in my hands.
Then a wall appeared in front of me,
Stopping me abruptly, halting my journey.
Another wall appeared to my left.
Another wall appeared to my right.
Another wall appeared behind me.
I was trapped and without help I would die.
Above me, I heard something.
An angel flew overhead.
'Help me out of here! ' I asked.
He smiled, 'You do not understand.'
It seemed I must stay awhile.
A few days passed by without release.
I was so hungry yet all I had was the map.
The angel suggested I eat the map.
'How else will you stay alive? ' he asked.
But I knew God gave me the map.

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poem by Denis Martindale
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By Candlelight

the real child comes out
in the dark
little creatures
run all over the wall
by the candle
the children scream, laugh
trying to outdo each other
the flickering light
that makes their dream
come true
dogs, cats and mouse
large and small
all over the wall
the children yelp, meow
jump in delight
our fine children
cast light on us
about their world
in that one blackout
animals we thought should

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poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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The Counselor

As they sit behind their made up desks
As they try to counsel one and another
While putting the blame on the world itself
Which includes everyone, except for each other.
They look at their diplomas upon the wall
Which brings a smile upon their face
Now they believe they are better than one and all
So now they tell you why, you had your fall from grace.
They look in their books and go in a deep thought
And give you sympathy as they do speak
They are sorry for the feelings inside your soul
But for you, they are here truly for your belief.
They might stand up and then pace the floor
And maybe think as they scratch their head
Telling you the reason for the problems you have
And that all comes from the books that they have read.
They laugh and they joke as they converse to others
Who has the degrees on the wall like themselves
Where they analyze everyone that does come around
While inside your soul, they say they have felt.

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poem by Randy McClave
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City Is Ours

(Big Time Rush)
The city is ours (2x)

(Kendall)
Rolling past graffiti walls
Billboards lighting up the block
Everyone one of us on a mission (Oh yea)
Got a whole crew by my side
Cars beep, beep when they pass us by
We ready to get down to business (mm, mm)

(Carlos)
We pull up, open the door
All the girls, scream there they are
It's packed from wall to wall
And, everybody is calling
Here we come, it's almost time
Feel the rush, now hit the lights
We gonna get it all started

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poem by Jojo Jonna
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Marvoil

A poor clerk I, 'Arnaut the less' they call me,
And because I have small mind to sit
Day long, long day cooped on a stool
A-jumbling o' figures for Maitre Jacques Polin,
I ha' taken to rambling the South here.

The Vicomte of Beziers's not such a bad lot.
I made rimes to his lady this three year:
Vers and canzone, till that damn'd son of Aragon,
Alfonso the half-bald, took to hanging
His helmet at Beziers.
Then came what might come, to wit: three men and one woman,
Beziers off at Mont-Ausier, I and his lady
Singing the stars in the turrets of Beziers,
And one lean Aragonese cursing the seneschal
To the end that you see, friends:

Aragon cursing in Aragon, Beziers busy at Beziers
Bored to an inch of extinction,
Tibors all tongue and temper at Mont-Ausier,

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poem by Ezra Pound
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