Our Success

Our success is more pursuit for pleasure,
Their fortune has been beheld by the ones;
The cooks are of the satanic pillars
Loathing a test from up above, the deity is shown.
One finds the taste of the mouth in us,
Opening entrances to the ones who count us.
A sky is hidden and shown by its cracks and fissures,
The knowledge is a finding and cost
Of the soul and measurement is paramount.
One cooked one day and for every day
That a man and woman is found apart.
The realest success happens in our mind,
One of us is certain of the truest heart.

poem by Naveed Akram
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The Beholder Knows What Keeps This Fertile

Perhaps you should use another tool,
To process this.
One that will allow the measurement,
Of prolificness.
Since there is no other way,
You will comprehend it at all.

It's just enough here for you to taste!
Not intended for you to attempt to recreate!
Or complicate your mind,
With 'that' as a possibility.
That mission for you to undertake,
Would not bestow upon you success.

So...
There is no need for your sweat,
To begin to research a way to address it.
Trust me...
The beholder knows what keeps this fertile.
And aligned and in tune with the times!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Separation

I keep telling you I'm not a parasite.
Why won't you listen?
Is it not a reasonable exhibition?
In a moment, in flash before your very own eyes.
You come to this realization.
It is hard enough just to survive.
Without dragging out the reasons.
Where is the drive?
A substitute in vehicles.
With time being whats not already traveled.
The distance of measurement in minutes not miles.
With all the changing in styles.
Will my sense of moral ever be the same?
What was once wrong is now so far gone.
Flying high in protest.
It is a separation between you and your inner self.

poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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The Warning

We have seen mighty men ballooning high,
And in another moment bump the ground.
He falls; and in his measurement is found
To count some inches o'er the common fry.
'Twas not enough to send him climbing sky,
Yet 'twas enough above his fellows crowned,
Had he less panted. Let his faithful hound
Bark at detractors. He may walk or lie.
Concerns it most ourselves, who with our gas -
This little Isle's insatiable greed
For Continents--filled to inflation burst.
So do ripe nations into squalor pass,
When, driven as herds by their old private thirst,
They scorn the brain's wild search for virtuous light.

poem by George Meredith
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School failed me, and I failed the school. It bored me. The teachers behaved like Feldwebel (sergeants). I wanted to learn what I wanted to know, but they wanted me to learn for the exam. What I hated most was the competitive system there, and especially sports. Because of this, I wasn't worth anything, and several times they suggested I leave. This was a catholic school in Munich.I felt that my thirst for knowledge was being strangled by my teachers; grades were their only measurement. How can a teacher understand youth with such a system? From the age of 12 I began to suspect authority and distrust teachers.

quote by Albert Einstein
Added by Catalin Popescu
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An innocent's marriage

The parents chosen him a bride from a remote village.
Like his next door tailor friend
he thinks the measurements of her bust, waist and hips.
He inquires his mother' Mom! does she loves me forever?
Or she stay with us two to three days and may grumbles
that she wants to go back home.
Mom! if she goes then I too go with her
as I cannot stay alone'.
'Don't worry my son she will stay here forever'
mother is pacifying him.
'Mom! I am not going to sleep with her
and I tell her Jack and Jill rhyme until she goes to sleep
then I 'll come back to you.Really I am scared'.
'Then what's the purpose of bringing her here? '.
mother replied.
'She will help to my poor mom I am sure and in a free time
I'll take her to the park and we can go in the merry-go-round'.

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Are our brains wrinkled?

Wrinkles are the measurement,
to show the life's management,
some are very near and deep,
and the rest long and steep.

Wrinkles are the asset,
that get through the experience,
not all those experienced,
never have such twinkles.

The wrinkles which can not be seen,
hidden inside the hard shell,
More the wrinkles formation,
More the knowledge dwell.

Let us see who has more fold.
Einstein or a research assistant,
people with more folds may not know it,
people with lesser folds strive to get it.

[...] Read more

poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Every Poem Is Another Effort At Poetry

EVERY POEM IS ANOTHER EFFORT AT POETRY

Every poem is another effort at Poetry
Will it belong or not?
And what is Poetry?
And who owns it
And who cares ultimately?

We are criers in the night
Dawn- breaking whisperers of Awe
We make of our little lives
A gantze gescheft.
No one is where we are
When we are alone,
And even the once beautiful stars
Have given way for us
To cold measurements of deeper darkness.

Let us say we know how to pray

[...] Read more

poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Lyrical Hold, A Million Dollars Story, Danced by a Marionette

the manipulating privilege of possession
is all yours
i do not prevent my undue bending knee
but, place it where it is forced
enclose in its captivity
are swan like performances
dancing as a Marionette
flowing in a air of blood stained counted measurements
with graceful silent nightmares of custom influences
raw shaking wings can not
take to heavenly Flight
but are now cursed and weaken
by Celebrity like demonic god, admirers
hovering over a lifeless non-moving string puppet

pull me this way, and i lift my arm
wiggle me this way
and i will, scream out no alarm
dress me as, cute as a clown
hand on back, neck held straight

[...] Read more

poem by Verlecia fields
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If You But Want Me Too

If you but want me too
I will shelter you...
If you but desire me too
I shall lie alongside you...
You can stir beside me!
And I shall be aroused beside you!
If it's but within your soul
If it's but too within my heart
I'll stumble on your love in the dark
I'll unearth its ebony residence
And together we'll turn that key
And open the loneliest parts of you
In the most isolated parts of me.
And together in our hearts
We'll reside like the sun and rain
Like fire and ice
Like oil and water
But in a complementary role
Like night and day
Like Adam and Eve

[...] Read more

poem by Mark Heathcote
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My Sadness, My Depression

Sadness and depression swallows me up; brings me into its clutches, and I go willingly.
They have been my friends for so long.
I feel, I want, to cry, but no tears fall, perhaps because I have dried up for the time being.
I have cried so much, for so many days and times.
Will I ever find myself happiness,100% all the time?
Or is it going to continue this way?
Half of my life filled with some small measurement of happiness, and the other half filled with constant tears, sadness, and depression?
I want to have a normal life.
The only tears I want to shed are the tears of joy, but I fear that will never be.
What has my life become?
What have I become?

poem by Shelly Hileman
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In my book of zoology

In my book of zoology
The wolves are as innocent as lambs
The lambs as cunning as foxes
The monkeys always trick on humans
The birds refuse to be a symbol of anything
The bees are not as busy as you would like them to be
The donkeys are carrot loving farmers
The fish keep the secret of language
To be revealed by dolphins only
The butterflies mock the wingless hands
The mice have outtrapped the mazes
The eagles know the depth of all the sights
The cockroaches are busy with an infinitesimal account
Elephants remember what others have forgotten
The crabs quarrel with Zenonian measurements
The giraffe will always spit if you go too far
The lizard is a wizard of sunbathing
The rainbow is in love with the chameleon

[...] Read more

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Transitional Edge

Pathways have no boundaries,
thinker was without a thought.
Hostile mind refuses to believe
truth was missing from life.
From depth to depth measurement had failed.
God does not know his creation now.

Foolish flesh now burns in thudding bangs
of dry butter. I want you to touch the
opaque eyes of eternity. In captivity of
sighs and groans. You ought to understand
who was original. There had been free
invitation to become unfaithful.
There were masks, gene shifts and longevity.

This evening a drama will be enacted in sky
by unburnt bras and a black hole. There will
be thrill. It was easy to bury the skulls among
floating names. The wreath will be placed
on the transitional edge of sweetness.

[...] Read more

poem by Satish Verma
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Teaching Is Best Left To Teachers

It is sad that so much teaching is now vocational
And that the gaining of real wisdom
Is seen as optional.

Once the sciences were lauded as mankind's pinnacle
Now it's all those business studies
And subjects practical.

Do we still look up to Einstein with those thoughtful staring eyes?
Or do we deify the businessman
And others of that kind?

What price the cost of knowledge when our future is at stake?
Now everything is measured
But the measures are quite fake.

We should take note of Heisenberg for things are not what they seem
Measurement changes what's measured
And certainty is but a dream.

[...] Read more

poem by David Keig
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Pluck the rose to colour the dreams

The springs of my life
Have been burnt
By the violet light of the moon
The blood turns blue in every thought
The breath turns fire in every sight
Every dropp of saliva becomes the poison for the heart.
The gust of wish shaking the hell gates
And the river dries up to death in the desert.

I don't know
How long the night is
I don't know the density of the dark
Neither have I known where the top is
Of my desires and the depth-less bottom lies
I don't have any measurement to fathom.
But I only know the spread
Of the crops up to the horizon
And the scent from the center
The drug of my heart and the desire …

[...] Read more

poem by Abdul Wahab
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Unsure When You Should Be Grieving

The tears fall my friend.
The venom creeps in.
Hate and sadness.
Chaos upon a madness.
A uncle has died.
And you have no right to view the body.
All because your immediate family hates you.
With a wicked grin your mom says your an grateful son.
As you take her home.
But I stand before you and can tell your a giant when comes to love.
Let measurements be only measured in heaven and hell.
As your daughter and granddaughters fight.
Your wife has already made up her mind.
Your in another pickle tonight.
Not sure what's right.
Taking sides does not settle well.
An asshole either way.
So just do what you feel.
Do not hesitate on what others think.
The pots and pans banging go clank, clank, clank.

[...] Read more

poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Please Save A Seat For Me

Oh gosh how i wish it was yesturday
Before all this came true
I always assumed i would be me first
Never for one second could it be you

I take back all the fighting
All the bitterness and lies
I wish i hadn't have been so childish
Maybe this will make me wise

Oh how i pray you knew i loved you
The measurement of love's so high
Now memories is all i have of you
And that star up in the sky

Please god i hope you're not in pain now
I hope you've gained a happy heart
I'm sorry i couldn't help you with that
Maybe at the very start

[...] Read more

poem by Lucy Vernezze
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Soul So Alone (2011)

Oh well...

The day I was unearthed for poetry;
my unfamiliar heart rate had rang,
and was swept away by innocence...

The day that I advertised my poetry;
my unfamiliar heart rate harangued,
and was eager for love's suspense...

The day that 'we shared' our poetry;
my unfamiliar heart rate had sang,
and commenced gentle lovingness...

So then...

That night we celebrated our poetry;
my soul illuminated, as to enchant,
and ignited passion; drawing heads...

[...] Read more

poem by David Joel Rodriguez
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The Bittersweet Of Christmas

A pervading warmth wraps the heart at Christmas time.
It comes a messenger of peace; a recall of home;
The pipings of the past; the evidence of forgotten joys; Memories of friends, gone from us and, loved ones far away.

The most tender of mysteries, it permeates society, displaying
An underlying oneness for all human kind.
A time when labor turns to love, fatigue evolves to festivity.

There are weeks involved in making ready for a single day's Event: decorating the house; selecting the tree; shopping for Gifts and food; setting the table with silver and china;
The house warmed by fireplace flames; the laughter of children;
The exchanging of gifts by the tree.

Suddenly over, family departed, the house becomes a vacuum, an Echo of tomorrow's emptiness.
The day, added to the yesterdays of all our years, is recorded In memory as a genial recollection.

There is no measurement that weighs the hours of preparation
For the approaching holidays. There is no holiday that leaves
One with such a glow of nostalgic reflections as does Christmas Day.

[...] Read more

poem by Lynn W. Petty
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Perhaps....

i like the way you imagine yourself to be more rooted to earth.
As though, earth is all the wealth we can have.
As though, what is in heaven is more or less the same as this earth can offer.
You mention about stem cell therapy.
It is like saying that you want to be here forever
Live life and if there is a chance never to die
or if there is this Second Coming
that you must be one of those counted not to die and still witness
the coming of the Lord in Glory.
You shall meet God without the pain of dying.
That is a good idea.

For how long do you stick to this ambition of painlessness?

You know what a tree is? Sometimes they are cut
Then made into planks
Sawed into desired measurements
Planed into a desired smoothness
Lacquered
Only to be made into another

[...] Read more

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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