Quotes about shred, page 5
Just As Perceptions Have No Clarity
If they were not as quick to attack,
And latch onto comprehension...
To understand their dissensions,
Without becoming offended
By its appearance.
To mend and end them.
There would be less conflict,
And more tolerance...
Of which they prove there is none.
Just as perceptions have no clarity of depth...
They are left believing,
Their self righteousness trimmed with arrogance...
Is sought instead of rejected!
And this is defended.
Until a quality of life with its isolated inequities,
Ends!
Without a shred of truth pursued!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Prayer In Space Gaols
O God!
I'm but a moment in your endless millennia
My life span is but a shred of your continuum
Since times immemorial
The blue sky signifies the holiness
Of your sleep
You sit in the very heart of the night
Illumining the eternity of stars
Sounds are but the seranata of your silences
You are the ocean of lyrics
Antidote to the grief stretched from end to end
But the fate of my earths is the gaol of space
Set them free, O Lord
Fill the darkness of stellar distances with light!
Make me limitless!
(1993, Translated by Dr. Satyapal Anand)
poem by Naseer Ahmed Nasir
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Greed is Good
“Greed is good! ” they say
Some say “Greed is great! ”
Will they say that when the masses
Are bashing down their gate?
Will they still pray to their god ‘Greed’
When they find that it’s too late?
All the starving children
They don’t think greed is good
They would rather have each day
A sufficiency of food
All the freezing homeless
How great is greed to those?
A bit of tin to shelter in
Would please them (I suppose)
What good is greed to anyone
When it is served with hate?
I’d rather have a shred of humanity
[...] Read more
poem by Neil Milliner
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The Melancholy Blues
Depression controls every single one of us
For some people, depression barely exists
But for the rest of us, we are doomed to live depressed
Depression makes you unhappy
Makes you think trying suicide
Makes you think about the wonders about death
Depression causes us to hurt the ones we love day by day
We want to get help but never seem to be able to
A shred of hope left in us in those we love
Hoping they will save us from this black-hole
That we keep falling into
Depression controls us, our feelings and our mind…
And we battle it every day with tiredness.
poem by Casey Lyon
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America
Although she feeds me bread of bitterness,
And sinks into my throat her tiger's tooth,
Stealing my breath of life, I will confess
I love this cultured hell that tests my youth!
Her vigor flows like tides into my blood,
Giving me strength erect against her hate.
Her bigness sweeps my being like a flood.
Yet as a rebel fronts a king in state,
I stand within her walls with not a shred
Of terror, malice, not a word of jeer.
Darkly I gaze into the days ahead,
And see her might and granite wonders there,
Beneath the touch of Time's unerring hand,
Like priceless treasures sinking in the sand.
poem by Claude McKay
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Sonnet V: I Lift My Heavy Heart Up
I lift my heavy heart up solemnly,
As once Electra her sepulchral urn,
And, looking in thine eyes, I overturn
The ashes at thy feet. Behold and see
What a great heap of grief lay hid in me,
And how the red wild sparkles dimly burn
Through the ashen greyness. If thy foot in scorn
Could tread them out to darkness utterly,
It might be well perhaps. But if instead
Thou wait beside me for the wind to blow
The grey dust up,...those laurels on thine head,
O my Belovèd, will not shield thee so,
That none of all the fires shall scorch and shred
The hair beneath. Stand farther off then! go.
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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V
I lift my heavy heart up solemnly,
As once Electra her sepulchral urn,
And, looking in thine eyes, I overturn
The ashes at thy feet. Behold and see
What a great heap of grief lay hid in me,
And how the red wild sparkles dimly burn
Through the ashen grayness. If thy foot in scorn
Could tread them out to darkness utterly,
It might be well perhaps. But if instead
Thou wait beside me for the wind to blow
The gray dust up, . . . those laurels on thine head,
O my Beloved, will not shield thee so,
That none of all the fires shall scorch and shred
The hair beneath. Stand farther off then ! go.
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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Rock Bottom
The hour of the liars,
Closes in upon them quick.
Those whose lips have flapped with lies...
Have found their alibis,
No longer keeps them in full disguise.
A smothering of coverups,
Has exposed them and their deceiving butts.
Leaving those who chose to follow,
Hitting hard rock bottom!
Without a shred of empathy...
To receive as a loan.
Or a scent of it shown,
From anyone who has it for them to borrow!
Even the thought of caring,
Has become a fear...
People today,
Have dared themselves to share!
Hoping the act of it...
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sonnet 05 - I lift my heavy heart up solemnly
V
I lift my heavy heart up solemnly,
As once Electra her sepulchral urn,
And, looking in thine eyes, I overturn
The ashes at thy feet. Behold and see
What a great heap of grief lay hid in me,
And how the red wild sparkles dimly burn
Through the ashen grayness. If thy foot in scorn
Could tread them out to darkness utterly,
It might be well perhaps. But if instead
Thou wait beside me for the wind to blow
The gray dust up, . . . those laurels on thine head,
O my Beloved, will not shield thee so,
That none of all the fires shall scorch and shred
The hair beneath. Stand farther off then! go.
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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The Spectrum
HOW many colors here do we see set,
Like rings upon God’s finger? Some say three,
Some four, some six, some seven. All agree
To left of red, to right of violet,
Waits darkness deep as night and black as jet.
And so we know what Noah saw we see,
Nor less nor more—of God’s emblazonry
A shred—a sign of glory known not yet.
If red can glide to yellow, green to blue,
What joys may yet await our wider eyes
When we rewake upon a wider shore!
What deep pulsations, exquisite and new!
What keener, swifter raptures may surprise
Men born to see the rainbow and no more!
poem by William Cosmo Monkhouse
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