Quotes about ness, page 8
Murder...A collection of 7 deadly sin
Beware simple mortals
In man's stupidity
And devils trickery
Love, lust, infatuation
Obsessions, Sadness
Intoxication, rage
Confusions, misunderstandings
Loneliness, hatred
Bitterness, revenge
Unfaith-ness, dishonesty
Greed, misfortunes
Jealousy, envy,
Anger, stress, pressure
Have all caused hands
To take away God's creation
And embrace the seed of Satan
Better known as murder.
24th August 2009 Eyan Desir
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poem by Eyan Desir
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Whale Song
Can you hear the Whale Song resonating deep?
Can you hear that deep slow hum within your mind asleep?
Can you understand the Whale Song and feel its undulating tones
Vibrating through our bodies within our flesh and bone?
Why is it that the Whale Song entrances us in life
And let's us glimpse a real-ness that needs not ears nor even eyes?
Maybe it's that the Whale Song makes us feel part of this earth
In a way that seems to be obscured in the life that follows birth.
poem by David Keig
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Once There Was Darkness
once there was darkness
that is the beginning of it all
actually.
And we did not like it really
and so we prayed for
light and Light was given
as asked.
And then we embrace dark
ness again as we get blinded
with so much light.
We shift between two states.
We know how is it to be blind
We know how is it to see.
In both states we see what the
other cannot singlehandedly
offer.
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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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\ Love \
He told the
Therapist
How vexed
He was
As his wife
Didn't feel
Sexed.
The therapist
Told him if he
Gave his wife
A lot of love
She would
Surely give him
Sex.
So now his
Wife feels
Ever so happy
Seeing her hubby
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poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Sincerity
Sincerity, what are thy Views;
No more my Breast attend.
By thee, alas! we often lose,
But seldom gain a Friend.
No more with dang'rous Zeal presume
To warn whom you esteem:
Be wise, or I foresee your Doom;
Impertinence you'll seem.
A thousand Ills from thee I've found;
A thousand more I fear.
In Worlds like this, should you abound?
What Bus'ness have you here?
But if you still must haunt my Breast,
To Desarts we'll repair;
Or seek the Mansions of the Blest;
They know your Value there.
poem by Mary Barber
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Non-Life
Hell is non-life, much matters in it,
For the evil splendidly walked on thin ice
Watering Hell, and underground their hidden faces
Were held in shock at the grave ness released
As disaster struck as it loomed, as destiny fulfilled the good.
It was painful now, for me and you, when cold and blue
Was the stew called us, and we underneath knew
That life was never there, now, now that it had ended
In a blasting fashion, weather was bad after all.
Hell I understood as abhorrent, who am I to go?
poem by Naveed Akram
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On The Verge Of Forgetting
i have mistaken
tuesday for a wednesday
i left my cellphone
on top of the lectern
i bring the wrong book
in class
mistaken Judy anne
for a Van
oh, i forget perhaps
that i am getting into a
fifty-one
wrinkled still in
love,
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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Last Poem I Came To
The last poem I came to
Was not my own-
It came from other voices elsewhere
And had a thousand broken signatures written in it -
It was all my reading and all the voices of others I had heard-
It sounded like a mess,
And it frightened me by its mixed- up- ness -
But I have been reading and listening too long
The voice was of the others
But it had become mine also-
And now when I try to sound like myself
I hear them calling me by their own lines and names
And writing these words as I write them.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Blank
what can you say
when your mind is empty
I suppose come what may
there is not much to me
I'm just blank
nothing to say
what do you expect me to write?
I'm like one who has lost his sight
but has no dog, and no guide whose closest friend is blackness
and only comfort is darkness
i see no more than nothingness
yet now is when i can most clearly see my blankness
blindness
timeless but not unforgettable timeless
because of a lack of perception- all i have left is blankness
not even worthy of a 'ness' I'm just blank...
poem by David Knox
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Nor Width or Depth of It
You can not define my man-ness.
No height...
Nor width or depth of it!
You may observe,
A stress perhaps projected.
The feelings felt...
None like me have dealt with.
I am not part of a collective drone...
Buzzing in a hive as if a clone!
You may believe,
You know my needs.
Perceived from observances...
Randomly received.
Inside am I alone with thought.
In this shell to me God has brought.
A manhood of an expression.
To live and to give...
Without delivery of confession.
To perform is my deed.
The reason of my profession.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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