Quotes about cursing, page 7
Hauptschool Kids (Satis Shroff)
The grey-haired gardener in charge comes,
Tells the Hauptschule boys to behave
And goes.
Boredom in the afternoon.
The boys don’t want to play soccer,
Handball or basketball.
Sitting around, criticising, irritating each other,
Is cool.
Creative workshops: music, songs, essays, own movies?
Nothing interests them.
Killing time together,
Cursing at each other,
Getting a kick provoking passersby,
This is the Hauptschule in Germany today.
The clever kids go to the Gymnasium,
After the fourth class.
poem by Satis Shroff
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We are far away from us
Some sounds are remaining there
Even if I'm drowning in my tears
Memories of life dipping me to grief
I'm all alone in the door my life
Without you my life is empty
You're gone far away from me
And my heart travelling everywhere
To get you again in my life.......
Neither I find you nor you meet me
You're gone far away from me
I gave you love
I gave you happiness
But you gave me grief
You gave me sadness
Now I'm cursing those moments
That I had spent with you
And I'm also far away from you.....
poem by Rose Rose
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Insanity
Insanity is too close to us all.
It waits on all the sidelines.
No one knows if it will come to call
for most don't recognize the signs.
Brain forgetting, name forgetting,
normalcy too upsetting.
Movement strange, blinking strange,
vision starts to change.
Seeing scenes that are not there,
hearing voices everywhere.
Talking continuously all day long,
cursing words that don't belong.
Vacant stares not there before,
happening now more and more.
Insanity is too close to us all.
It's right behind a vacant door.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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More Intimate Prayers.... (Random)
are we alive?
or do we reside in death?
merely staring through an open window
at the reflection of our lives
in a mirror?
i saw Jesus's eyes
in the eyes of the stray dog...
and so didnt have to ask his name!
how many buddhas
did you kill cutting down trees
to widen the road?
when the path was already there!
a wilted rose petal
knows more about love than
we will ever know!
[...] Read more
poem by Eric Cockrell
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There’s a male baboon loose in town
There’s a male baboon loose in town
walking on its hands and feet
opening all the rubbish bins in town
where eagerly it looks for any food
and it’s easier for him than the bush,
while cursing he talks to the dogs.
There’s a male baboon loose in town
walking on its hands and feet
stripping everything that it finds
and as an outcast it did desert,
he scratches between rubbish, old papers and mail,
trying to baptize himself in the sewerage,
there’s a male baboon loose in town
walking on its hands and feet.
poem by Gert Strydom
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But I Was Looking at the Permanent Stars
Bugles sang, saddening the evening air,
And bugles answered, sorrowful to hear.
Voices of boys were by the river-side.
Sleep mothered them; and left the twilight sad.
The shadow of the morrow weighed on men.
Voices of old despondency resigned,
Bowed by the shadow of the morrow, slept.
( ) dying tone
Of receding voices that will not return.
The wailing of the high far-travelling shells
And the deep cursing of the provoking ( )
The monstrous anger of our taciturn guns.
The majesty of the insults of their mouths.
poem by Wilfred Owen
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Like a Marathon
Sometimes I don't...
Sleep.
Sometimes I don't...
Rest.
Or eat like I should.
Because I stay up all night writing.
Sometimes I don't...
Drink,
Water...
Like I oughta!
I smoke too many cigarettes.
Trying to match lines,
With concepts that don't mesh.
And I get up to shower in my own protest.
Cursing myself because I am not at my best!
Sometimes I don't...
Sleep.
Sometimes I don't...
Rest.
Or eat like I should.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Who is the King?
I am the Queen
you are my son
abide my dictum
crossing the limit
endanger your life
accept my authority
spreading your wings
searching your mate
putting me in displeasure
your soul bears
my whipping silently
accepts to derail
my son assent
my choice of bride
feel the freedom
[...] Read more
poem by Mubeen Sadhika
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Meandering of Self Destiny
Meandering of Self Destiny
By: Adam M. Snow
Fall I unto thy cold bleak ground;
Grasping life with every pound.
My aching voice does blunder,
When Flesh and Spirit sunder.
Leaving all into oblivious,
With thy feelings of lascivious,
Cursing thy living wonders,
Leaving I into blunders.
Though not I ye should fear:
Nature is what we hear.
Not I whom ye should dare speak:
But be thy love of joyous meek.
A journey ends at ones tree;
Branches spread shadowing thee.
Not a light to touch on tainted ground,
But of thy love whom ye profound.
poem by Adam M. Snow
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Van der Decken
Sometimes just before a breaking storm
standing at the old wooden tiller of your ship
far away from the Cape shore
you sail forever more,
smitten to ride the waves eternally
even with a windless pail stormy sky
driving your ancient ship across the sea
with it creaking, with sails trembling
with the woodwork ages long needing repair
right out of the forming fog
you appear with a fist clenched above your head
still cursing the creator God
as a token to all men,
even witnessed by a king,
by naval ships at war
you Van der Decken, sail on forever more.
poem by Gert Strydom
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