If You Exist This Proves You Don't Care

Is it the Gods who decide if we live or we die,
If it is then our lives aren't worth living,
The whole concept of life is no more than a lie,
It is cruel and yet so unforgiving.

If Gods have this power we are no more than pawns,
In a warped and sick game of chess,
If it's for them to decide if a new day dawns,
Then it's a concept, which just doesn't impress.

Who are they to dictate these sick rules?
It's the ultimate form of oppression,
If their presence is true then they treat us like fools,
It makes you wonder if they encourage transgression.

Do they live in luxury as their creations starve?
Paradise is where we're told Gods reside,
Do they drink finest wines as their beef they carve?
Why for their destitute do they not provide.

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poem by Bri Mar
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Bubbles of Love

This poem was inspired while watching the MTV reality show A Shot at Love with Tila Tequila. take it or leave it, you can interprete it the way you want.

Miss Tequila I wish to confess
There is something odd I wish to express
One day I had one shot too many for a penny
As my eyes opened up to 'Bubbles of love'

Bubbles of love
Bubbles of love
This awesome beauty that you possess
Your tanned skin calls for a touch of caress

Bubbles of love
Bubbles of love
Your succulent lips demand a kiss of finesse
And lets not forget the sexy curves you possess

Bubbles of Love
Bubbles of Love
I will fight with words not fists and head butts

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poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Saladin

A name well-known to West
And celebrated pride for East
Great warrior named Saladin
Was nemesis for crusades, world agrees

Slim figured and dark complexioned
High endurance and melancholic expressions
Fond of polo and master of chess
Historied tolerance and farsightedness

Islam was in oblivion, and
Muslims disarrayed
United them, in one leadership
were brothers of Syria and Egypt

Preferred simple living to palaces
Was a unique commander and strategist
Chivalrous to a fault
Trait so famous, even enemies didn't miss

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poem by Samima Shah
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Lying In The Park

On the green grass
And a blue sky
Peace and sunshine
Peace and sunshine
Soon,
Soon Im going bye ? ? ?
Now I just want ? ? ? city
Lookin for the park
Lying down in the park
Lying down in the park
Yeah yeah yeah
See the momma
Down walking the dogs
Down by the fountains
Down by the fountains
Child, child
Eating sandwich and sweets
And your sitting by my fountain
Cooling my feet
In the park

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song performed by G. Love & Special Sauce
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Damned Truth

i am absolutely enraged at the current political state of this country.
shutdown, no shutdown, last minute hysterics, cant pay our soldiers,
but the politicians damn sure gonna get paid!
this isnt a game, it's not a joke, it's not one hand trumps the other!
what we are dealing with here are the lives and well-being of the
American people... and they're playing chess, and using us as pawns!
we're involved in wars we have no business being involved in, that we
financed because we cant pay for them! we have allowed corporate
America to sell out our jobs for a higher profit margin.
we have raped our environment. we've sold our children into sexual
slavery. we've traded freedom for manipulation. we've allowed our
educational system to deterioriate.
we've sold out to sex and drugs and the 'big deal'. the American dream is now a nightmare for most of us.
we've become a dishonest, greedy, bigoted, self-righteous, apathetic mess!
everybody wants to point fingers, nobody wants to take responsibility.
it begins at home, with the man or woman in the mirror. and then it comes down to what we will allow to be done to us!
it is time to quit playing republicans and democrats. it's time to be the
American people again! time to be human! and anybody of whatever party that tries to get in the way needs to be kicked out! ! !
i told someone this morning that i know Jefferson's rolling over in his grave.

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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Battling Racism

I have wanted to tell my story of Sgt. Vigay.
When we first met, him claiming cool,
and get's Hell out's -is way.
I never felt such hatred, prejudice, like that first day.
That was my first moments, But I swore, I'd make him pay.

It started, claiming he'd whip's my body,
Like's moppen's the hall.
He'd whip's this I'd'ho white boy, in Bassit Ball
There he stood, six three or four, big and frighting.
But I mouthed, moe foe, have you ever seen?
I'd'ho white greased lighting?

The hurts and the banging, I knew what I'd get.
All the money I had, but what the Heck?
I placed life, death, on that six dollor bet.
Battling racisim, I bet they're still wondering even yet?

The brothers all cheered, for their man six feet four.
The fight was finally over 21,24,

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poem by Clyde Bryson
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World Cup 2006

Zidane, Zidane
Is still the man!
Thierry Henry,
Hurry, Hurry

Roberto, Ronaldo, Ronaldino
Seemed to have forgotten the lingo

In the beginning they all said Brazil
Whilst they played their first game
Most played with piddling zeal
Predictions made only upon their name

The host country Germany
Displayed a talent of many
Their expressive style, worth every penny
They played with a lot of wit
And their strikers’ chest stuck out fit

Let me not be cynical

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poem by Sylvia Chidi
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The Return of the Proconsul

I’ve decided to return to the emperor’s court
once more I shall see if it’s possible to live there
I could stay here in this remote province
under the full sweet leaves of sycamores
under the rule of sickly nepotists

when I return I don’t intend to commend myself
I shall applaud in measured portions
smile in ounces frown discreetly
for that they will not give me a golden chain
this iron one will suffice

I’ve decided to return tomorrow or the next day
I cannot live among vineyards nothing here is mine
trees have no roots houses no foundations the rain is glassy flowers smell of wax
a dry cloud rattles against the empty sky
so I shall return tomorrow the next day in any case I shall return

I must come to terms with my face again
with my lower lip so it knows how to check scorn

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poem by Zbigniew Herbert
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Imperialism: Happy Imperialistic FBI Valentine To A Sushi Agents

Do not look at me in the eyes...

FBI
sushi agent
cause,
you look a minimum
wage FBI sushi-chess-or cheese burger
No GDE,
No Connection, and
No emotional secure ground....So stop there
and happy valentine
to you...and all the FBI sushi minimum wage like you....and I still admire

the butt
dwelling free butt....unwatched....un-hijacked....nobody noticed it..shame
on the FBI...SUSHI BOSS....

if you are a PHD

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poem by Atef Ayadi
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How Da Beat Goes

It's all night
And it's all right
Til the sunlight
This is how da beat goes on
Big Will
Tra- Knox
So hot
This is how da beat goes on
Poppin
Rockin n
Stompin
This is how da beat goes on
Big Will
Tra- Knox
So hot
This is how da beat goes on

It's the bizzi wizza
Jizzi wizzil
Bizon wizzay

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song performed by Will Smith from Born To Reign
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Lucifer Wages Rebellion Wars: Rules A Mud World

a world of historical mysteries
a world of hidden mysteries
a world of political mysteries

a world of conspiracy fact

never in my lifetime
could I ever truthfully say
the land was without war

many wars exist continually
somewhere in various locations
shifting across chess board earth

symbolically in lost Eden
in a state of lost paradise
in a state of bodily perfection

in a measure of favoured land
in a measure of favoured time

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poem by Terence George Craddock
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Blood & Honey

I began by loving women
& the love turned
to bitterness.

My mother, the bitter,
whose bitter lesson-
trust no one,
especially no male-
caused me to be naive
for too many years,
in mere rebellion
against that bitterness.

If she was Medea,
I would be Candide
& bleed in every sexual war,
& water my garden with menstrual blood
& grow the juiciest fruits.

(Like the woman

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poem by Erica Jong
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O Brave and Faithful Dream

The day began
with the temperature
plummeting
closing in on zero
wondered if I should wear
a coat
decided to put one on
not wanting
to be a show off
told everyone at Spinoza high school
my mother bore me
on the steppes of Siberia
wasn’t true
but felt
it should have been true
I loved the cold so much
well,
we all had our little
dream.
Later that day

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poem by Charles Chaim Wax
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A To Z Ambre Alice Double Best

Art Alice, Ambre, amuse as all attest,
Axel attentive, allegresse.
Beads, burst balloons, boats, sand beach best,
Bath bubbles, birthday double blessed.
Chimps, chips, choosing treasure chest,
Computers, chums, Cannes, Camille, chess.
Dogs, dance dreams, dolls divinely dressed,
Distractions daily, daintiness.
Excitement, Eden, Everest,
Enchantment ever effortless
Evolving energy, endless.
Fortune cookies, fancy dress,
Fairy-tales, friends, festiveness,
Fontaine's Fables, funniness.
Grandma, Grandpa, greeting guests,
Green gardens, gold rings, games to guess.
Gold Moon transformed despite protest.
Hands holding hands in happiness,
Harmony, hopes, healthiness.
Imagination if impressed,

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poem by Jonathan Robin
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How Da Beat Goes On

[chorus tra-knox and (will smith)]
Its all night, and its all right, til the sunlight
(this is how da beat goes on)
Big will, tra-knox, so hot
(this is how da beat goes on)
Poppin, rockin, and stompin
(this is how da beat goes on)
Big will, tra-knox, so hot
(this is how da beat goes on)
(verse 1 - will smith)
Its the bizzi, wizza, jizzi, wizzil
Bizon, wizzay, wizzat, fizzil
Back again but with a couple of friends
Thought my reign would end, well now Im rubbin it in
Im back yes, yes yallin, back again ballin
Out for a couple of years thought I had fallen
You seen me with denzel and russ crowe
But yo the movies just a chick on the side Im in love with the flow
Time off to be an oscar nominee now
Back to the m-i-c to mc now

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song performed by Will Smith
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Zone

At last you're tired of this elderly world

Shepherdess O Eiffel Tower this morning the bridges are bleating

You're fed up living with antiquity

Even the automobiles are antiques
Religion alone remains entirely new religion
Remains as simple as an airport hangar

In all Europe only you O Christianism are not old
The most modem European Pope Pius X it's you
The windows watch and shame has sealed
The confessionals against you this morning
Flyers catalogs hoardings sing aloud
Here's poetry this morning and for prose you're reading the tabloids
Disposable paperbacks filled with crimes and police
Biographies of great men a thousand various titles

I saw a pretty street this morning I forgot the name

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poem by Guillaume Apollinaire
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Wake Up (It's 1984)

Wake up! wont you listen to me
Wake up! wont you listen to me
Wont you listen to me
Wake up! wont you listen to me
Wake up! wont you listen to me
Wont you listen to me
Big brothers watching, we watch him back
We see right through his disguise
He tries to scare us, with angry words
But we all know that theyre lies
Whole world is waiting
Just see the fear in their eyes
Whole world is watching, observing every move
Is it beginning or the end?
Just like a chess game, but so intense
That I just dont understand
Anticipation
Its much to big to pretend
Chorus
(wake up), its 1984

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song performed by Oingo Boingo
Added by Lucian Velea
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Art The Lonely

The berried quicken-branches lament in lonely sighs,
Through open doorways of the dún a lonely wet wind cries,
And lonely in the hall he sits with feasting warriors round,
The harp that lauds his fame in fights hath a lonely sound,

The press of battle and the clang of striking spears
Set a lonely echo ringing for ever in his ears;
Amid the hunting-band he goes dream-stricken in the dawn–
The red deer and the baying hounds seem phantoms hurrying on.

The speckled salmon, too, darts lonely in the pool,
The swan floats lonely with her brood in shallows cool,
His steeds–the swift and gentle–are lonely in their stall,
The sorrow of his loneliness weighs heavy over all.

For in the house of Tara three shadows share the feast,
Conn sits within the High-King's place, against the East,
And Crionna whispers to his hound some memory of the chase,
While Connla to the harping turns a joyous listening face.

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poem by Anna Johnston MacManus
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Wake Up

Wake up! won't you listen to me
Wake up! won't you listen to me
Won't you listen to me
Wake up! won't you listen to me
Wake up! won't you listen to me
Won't you listen to me
Big brother's watching, we watch him back
We see right through his disguise
He tries to scare us, with angry words
But we all know that they're lies
Whole world is waiting
Just see the fear in their eyes
Whole world is watching, observing every move
Is it beginning or the end?
Just like a chess game, but so intense
That i just don't understand
Anticipation
It's much to big to pretend
Chorus
(wake up), it's 1984

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song performed by Oingo Boingo
Added by Lucian Velea
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Ravine Of Abortive Bliss And Sorrows

From dancing with your lofty shadows I trampled and lost
The metronome of my shifting pace and the road I wallowed
As pernicious as losing the maps to your own penetralium
The dark conquered my impenetrable but open heart

The hysteria brought upon her livid lightning in my eyes and I raged
My infinitesimal voice ricocheted in your halls but are you estranged
From my voice, dear monoliths? Or was I lost in your wailing corridors?

The immense sky was a watchful eye upon every shift
Like a king in a game of chess restricting my abashed feet
And checking and rivaling every move in a wintery snare
Its glacial and hoarse whimper was an intimidating roar

Its watchfulness stalled the night in these impassable walls
That incarcerated my defenselessness - like an implored aegis
And sometimes like a fluently guised and malingering demise
In this hall, where I am everywhere but no longer hold existence
Disembogued of everything, yet tethered to everything -
A veiled allegiance to the inner burning of angels and demons,

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poem by Norman Santos
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