Two Sections A & D

I was a dull boy, in studies
during high school days
In 9th standard - D section - where
below average minds were only dumped

since, all my co-students
were also of same mold,
teachers used to be strict and harsh
still, we struggled to get even pass marks

Sections A and B, full of proud students
with an air of superiority, as intellectual breeds
they never mingled with the pollutants 'D'
the co-ed girls of our own class too
preferred only boys from the ‘bright sections'.

In quiz, Chess or inter-school meets
those veterans brought prizes and laurels
to the broad smile of our HM and teachers, while
we remained sidelined, as wastes & useless

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poem by Santhana Louis
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Predisposed

This is my time, this is my time
And now youll go back where you came from
Now is the time to accept, Im right
Was right
Por ser lo mas provocar was wrong
Was wrong
Everythings over and I feel sober
To start my life
That one step took me right there
True intentions are not predisposed to our fear
Searching without a cause
I will not stand here and be controlled
Inside
Lo necesito sin tu control
Im not fine
Siento en me vena ninguna pena
Without a fear
A take that one step right there
True intentions are not predisposed to our fear
Searching without a cause

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song performed by Ill NiO
Added by Lucian Velea
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Predisposed

This is my time, this is my time
And now youll go back where you came from
Now is the time to accept, Im right
Was right
Por ser lo mas provocar was wrong
Was wrong
Everythings over and I feel sober
To start my life
That one step took me right there
True intentions are not predisposed to our fear
Searching without a cause
I will not stand here and be controlled
Inside
Lo necesito sin tu control
Im not fine
Siento en me vena ninguna pena
Without a fear
A take that one step right there
True intentions are not predisposed to our fear
Searching without a cause

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song performed by Ill NiO
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Constant Reporting Done of Threats

The constant reporting done of threats,
To advance fear in a projected animosity believed.
Intentionally keeps the mind tunneled visioned...
In acts to protect,
Effectively one's nest...
Constantly.

And,
Makes a life lived in search of 'peace'...
Great marketing for those,
Who seek a hatred kept to keep.
With weapons made to be sold!
For the ones working up a sweat that upsets.
For the purpose to reflect,
A bravery known to be courageous and bold.

The constant reporting done of threats,
Creates an indulgence...
Of an increasing release of evil,
With a slice of exciting devilment...

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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Miscellaneous Feelings in the Sui Garden

1
Joy and anger are not caused by outside things:
they simply happen to arise in the heart.
Rising and falling are not matters of fate:
one simply happens to encounter them.
Reading a book and finding nothing there,
I drop the volume, get up, and take a walk.
I think I'll go to the bamboo grove
where I can listen to the springtime water flow.

2
Let them knock at the bramble gate —
the host is in a dream!
Startled awake, I search for my socks;
I must have lost them east of the thatched hut.
At night, with nothing on my mind,
in dream I watched the bamboo growing tall.
Should guests arrive now at my garden,
barefoot I will see them off.

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poem by Yuan Mei, translated by Jonathan Chaves
Added by Dan Costinaş
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Faulkner Going Home

Faulkner writes at a New Orleans café
Dust and floorboards with cockroaches
Coffee like pain from the slave trade
French rolls, wrought iron in the warm rain
Spanish gables sigh like lost angels
We are the immaculate children of Tolstoy
Dreams of William Blake
Bayou of the damned
Napoleon dies marooned like a pauper
Mice and men screams like a prophecy
Your lovely breasts belong to the working class
You run from every proletariat poet

Bridges like leather swamps
Magnolia eyes hidden beneath English men
Celtic mountains like pockets of gold
She smiles like the French Quarter
We walk brick streets made from conquistadors
Across the square their playing strip tease
Winners dance like Chloe’s of the Marquis de Sade

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poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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I Beat You Because I Love...

Every day after school
Mom! Let's race home...
The lil boy would say to his mom
Mom would say ok...
Mom would run as fast as she could
To beat the lil boy home…
He'd cry …mom! ! ! !
You left me…you didn't let me win
You never let me win!
You're a mean mommy

She'd only respond with
If I let you win, you would never learn the lesson
What lesson mom?
She'd smile and walk away
Come on baby, its lunch time…

Few years down the road
The lil boy is now a teenager…
Mom! Let's play chess…

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poem by Sandra Pitchford
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Warrior

(m&l - hansen)
Blackened shy a final flash
Death is in the air
Warriors wothout a face
Destruction everywhere
Silent falls the hammer
No one hears the cries
No escaping from this hell
Your prayers wont be heard... so die
Brainless cruel commanders
Sending death and pain
Soldier owly robots
Fight for their life in vain
Silent falls the hammer
No one hears the cries
No escaping from this hell
Your prayers wont be heard... so die
Die now die warrion!
Die now die warrior!
Somewhere in a shelter sit the mem

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song performed by Helloween
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Perfumed Letter 1916

Dear Sweetheart,
As war drags on in this faraway land,
In this field of strangers that I face bayonets fixed I see,
Mad hatters place us here, like pawns in a deadly chess hand,
I will survive I will stay alive for you, my reason to be.

Counting as much, every grain of sand, every dropp of rain
Add together seem’s the same as days since

My eyes beheld your beauty I miss your being, so grand,
Your lipstick lips embossed inside your perfumed letter,

Kissing me softly, so long and softly.
Your fragrance lifts my body aloft
I embrace your message it shows on my face,
I smell your hair and feel your skin so soft
Breathe your breath; absorb your comfort in my grace.
Remember summer in the fields of hay we played and ran
You pulled daisy petals ‘he loves me, he loves me not’
You cheated at the end and said ‘he loves me twice’

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poem by Ken e Hall
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Country Song

He made his way to the border
In the shadow under the trees
Down by a stream in a hollow
Turn your head feel the breeze
And the red Queen was waiting for the news
For the white King to move
And the balance hung upon the head of one who tried
To stay within the shadows
And keep his undercover secret tight
They let him in by a backway
Into a chamber reserved for the Queen
She took the note that he gave her
Opened it slowly and started to read
Run to the treasury and bring me back some gold
Give it to the pawn who came, she cried
He says the white King thinks the game of chess is wrong
And all the courtiers crowded her
and this is what she told the gathered round
Go to the store by the dungeon
Take all the red paint take all the white

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song performed by Pink Floyd
Added by Lucian Velea
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How Great The Palace Stands

I

How great the palace stands
with its golden domes
in a city that is on seven hills,
snow white where it towers seven times.

As if everything holy, righteous and wonderful
comes to stature in it,
where hymns are constantly sung,
in the inner court and at the outside

with a central stela as a sign
of life originating, pointing into the air,
with the moon and sun meeting,
rises and dies as in ancient heathen worship,

circled twice,
almost like the throne of God Himself
and year in and out

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poem by Gert Strydom
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The Ocean

... Oceanward I am ever yearning,
Where far it rolls in its calm and grandeur,
The weight of mountain-like fogbanks bearing,
Forever wandering and returning.
The skies may lower, the land may call it,
It knows no resting and knows no yielding.
In nights of summer, in storms of winter,
Its surges murmur the self-same longing.

Yes, oceanward I am ever yearning,
Where far is lifted its broad, cold forehead!
Thereon the world throws its deepest shadow
And mirrors whispering all its anguish.
Though warm and blithesome the bright sun stroke it
With joyous message, that life is gladness,
Yet ice-cold, changelessly melancholy,
It drowns the sorrow and drowns the solace.

The full moon pulling, the tempest lifting,
Must loose their hold on the flowing water.

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poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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Our Games Of Chance, A Game Of Chess

whether you like it or not

(are you a man who wants everything to be too secure
without any risk at all?
say no.We cannot proceed further)

our lives are games of chances
every moment is a choice
every hour is a risk
every minute is a bait

sometimes we are the pawns and they are the kings
and bishops and queens

i am talking now of the game of chess

sometime we kick back and we become horses
and we invoke the power of the church
we take the robes of divine power: Jesus is King!
the King in us gets authoritative and checks the

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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Fortunes Faded

They say at chess you've got to kill the queen
And then you've made it
Do you?
A funny thing, a king that gets himself
Assassinated
Hey now, every time I loose
Attitude
You took the town by storm
Now the mess you made is nominated
Do you?
Now put away your welcome,
Soon you'll find you've overstayed it
Hey now, every time I loose
Attitude
So divine, hell of an elevator,
All the while, my fortune faded,
Never mind the consequences of my
Crime this time, my fortune faded
To medicate this state of mind,
You'll find is overrated

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song performed by Red Hot Chili Peppers
Added by Lucian Velea
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Fortune Faded

They say in chess you've got to kill the queen
And then you mate it
Oh I? Do you?
A funny thing, a king that gets himself
Assassinated
Hey now, every time I loose
Attitude
You took a town by storm
the mess you made was nominated
Oh I ? Do you?
Now put away your welcome,
Soon you'll find you've overstayed it
Hey now, every time I loose
Attitude
So divine, hell of an elevator,
All the while, my fortune faded,
Never mind the consequences of a crime
is time, my fortunes faded
The medicated state of mind,
You'll find is overrated

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song performed by Red Hot Chili Peppers
Added by Lucian Velea
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Dont Spit On My Mind

(m - deris, grosskopf l - deris)
Every lie will win a prize
Love sold by a whore
Claculated sacrifice
Death without a war
Aftermath and alibies
Straw-doll-chess to please the floor
Dont tell me of any wonders shiftting gold
Dont tell me of a hard way we have to go throutgh
Still we pay your warmth out of the cold
Do you really think were blind?
Dont spit on my mind
Dont spit on my mind
Dont spit on my mind
Any form of government
Has a black sheep part
But the brave will never know
What the black sheeps start
In the name of country-love
They enrich themselves apart

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song performed by Helloween
Added by Lucian Velea
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To An Astrologer

Nay, seer, I do not doubt thy mystic lore,
Nor question that the tenor of my life,
Past, present and the future, is revealed
There in my horoscope. I do believe
That yon dead moon compels the haughty seas
To ebb and flow, and that my natal star
Stands like a stern-browed sentinel in space
And challenges events; nor lets one grief,
Or joy, or failure, or success, pass on
To mar or bless my earthly lot, until
It proves its Karmic right to come to me.

All this I grant, but more than this I know!
Before the solar systems were conceived,
When nothing was but the unnamable,
My spirit lived, an atom of the Cause.
Through countless ages and in many forms
It has existed, ere it entered in
This human frame to serve its little day
Upon the earth. The deathless Me of me,

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poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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On The 2nd Anniversary of Benazir

O! Great lady you performed
Your role contributing heroically,
But you died an engineered death.
The dynamite placed deeper
Than your strategies has blown up
Your missions and bold existence.

Though death is inevitable,
Sooner or later each one of us
Will have to taste the tang of death,
Yet you lived your life
With vigorous soul,
Brimming with emotions.

Now you live into the world across
Where from no one returns;
We all miss you a lot,
Our eyes are heavy,
They are still carrying
The load of unshed tears.

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poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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The Game

here we are again
Always staring down that barrel of that gun
This battle has just begun
A War of a treasonous son
The death of so many on our hands
powerless we are
one by one they fall
marching to the top of it all
A weakness is but our strength under the cover darkness
here we are again
Its time fix things
They way I should of so long ago
Buried under the snow
The drifts blow
slowly a picture starts to show
its a face with no name
Its a plan so honest
that it cant be done without modesty
its more of the fickle irony
that constantly plagues me

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poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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She Just Wants To Be

Its not that she walked away,
Her world got smaller.
All the usual places, the same destinations,
Only somethings changed.
Its not that she wasnt rewarded
With pomegranate afternoons
And mingus, chet baker and chess.
Its not the stampede and fortune
Of prim affectations
Shes off on a right and she knows now
Its greater than the whole
Of the past
Its greater
And now she knows.
She just wants to be somewhere
She just wants to be.
She just wants to be somewhere
She just wants to be.
Its not that the transparency
Of earlier incarnations

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song performed by REM
Added by Lucian Velea
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