From time to time a poem

Little devil with a song to sing, what sorrow today have you to bring?
Your tunes are so dark, weary, and dreary, yet I find myself desiring them so dearly.
Won’t you sing a tune for me, to make the day a little less full of glee?

Oh little devil with a song to sing, what dark and dismal joy you bring.
I’ll play your game because I want your pain, if it’s all just the same.
Please jab me with your pointed stick, so I can get so dearly sick.

So devil with a song to sing, what sorrow today have you to bring?
Do you come to dish out pain, or traverse here instead to play a game?
Wont you sing so dearly hollow, to make me full of pain and sorrow?

Little devil with a song to sing, what sorrow today have you to bring?

-Kohadre

A lonely rhyme, a single crime
Yet it’s just the same thing at a different time

A lonely boy, once filled with joy
Now only knows to reciprocate, the hate he’s made to tolerate

A gun, rising sun
Actions made, can’t be undone

Pull the trigger, give a snigger
Sins stacked up, now it’s time to deliver

Sirens singing, eardrums ringing
Mind races, walking in paces

Begin to run, a new life begun
Action deployed, two lives destroyed

Hate, intolerance, anger.

What can we do to end the hate that stipulates?
What can we do to end the intolerance that spawns a conglomerate of destruction?
What can we do to end the hunger that drives us asunder?

Change the scene

A little boy, filled with joy
Ignorant of the world around him, unaware of the hate that awaits him
Born different, in a world that despises differences
Tries to teach, tries to preach
Gets beat down and smacked in the street
Had enough, time for change, some actions he will rearrange
Buys a gun, now judgment comes

A lonely boy, once filled with joy
Now only knows to reciprocate, the hate he’s made to tolerate

-Kohadre

My arm is being twisted to post this here. I won't name any names, but I'll glare a lot.

It’s not much to me, dreaming for what I can’t see
I beg, I plead, but still I see
You’ll always be a part of me
Oh!

So take the pills
To make life nil
Today’s yesterday’s tomorrow
So take the pills
To end the sorrow

Turn the page, burn some sage
Too mellow to feel any rage
Feeling the dawn of a new age
Yeah!

So take the pills
To make life nil
Today’s yesterday’s tomorrow
So take the pills
To end the sorrow

(Solo)

Feeling colder, turn the shoulder
Some of them say I’m Bi-polar
Maybe I won’t be when I get a little older
Check!

So take the pills
To make life nil
Today’s yesterday’s tomorrow
So take the pills
To end the sorrow

So take the pills
To make life nil
Today’s yesterday’s tomorrow
So take the pills
To end the sorrow

So take the pills
To end the sorrow

-Kohadre

The happiest day -- the happiest hour
My sear'd and blighted heart hath known,
The highest hope of pride and power,
I feel hath flown.

Of power! said I? yes! such I ween;
But they have vanish'd long, alas!
The visions of my youth have been-
But let them pass.

And, pride, what have I now with thee?
Another brow may even inherit
The venom thou hast pour'd on me
Be still, my spirit!

The happiest day -- the happiest hour
Mine eyes shall see -- have ever seen,
The brightest glance of pride and power,
I feel- have been:

But were that hope of pride and power
Now offer'd with the pain
Even then I felt -- that brightest hour
I would not live again:

For on its wing was dark alloy,
And, as it flutter'd -- fell
An essence -- powerful to destroy
A soul that knew it well.

--Edgar A. Poe--

Seamus Heaney, Ireland's foremost poet who won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1995, died Friday after a half-century exploring the wild beauty of Ireland and the political torment within the nation's soul. He was 74.
Slainte!

I read this today....
Rain by Frederick Seidel

Rain falls on the Western world,
The coldest spring in living memory everywhere.
Winter in mid-May means the darling buds of May uncurled
On an ice-cold morgue slab, smilingly shaking loose their beautiful hair.
London rains every day anyway.
Paris is freezing. It's May, but Rome is cold.
Motorcycles being tested at the factory in Varese north of Milan are gray
Victims screaming in place and can't get out and won't get sold.

It's the recession.
It's very weird in New York.
Teen vampires are the teen obsession,
Rosebud mouths who don't use a knife and fork.
Germany at first won't save Greece, but really has to.
It's hot hot in parts of Texas, but rain drowns Tennessee, people die.
It's the euro. It's the Greek debt. Greece knew
It had to stop lying, but timeo Danaos, they're Greeks, Greeks lie.

Canoeing in the Ozarks with Pierre Leval: the rain came down so hard
The river rose twenty-three feet in the predawn hours and roared.
Came the dawn, there was improbably a lifeguard,
There was a three-legged dog, the jobless numbers soared.
Dreamers woke in the dark and drowned, with time to think this can't be true.
Incomprehensible is something these things do.
They bring the Dow Jones into the Ozarks and the Ozarks into the EU.
A raving flash flood vomits out of a raindrop. The Western world is in the ICU.

Entire trees rocket past. One wouldn't stand a chance in the canoe.
A three-legged dog appears, then the guy it belongs to.
You instantly knew
You'd run into a hillbilly backwoods crazy, itching to kill you.
Berlin and Athens, as the Western world flickers,
Look up blinking in the rain and lick the rain and shiver and freeze.
They open black umbrellas and put on yellow slickers
And weep sugar like honeybees dying of the bee disease.


.

Raindrops

Raindrops,

Falling from a sky

Enviously painted gray and black

With the billowy, undulating wisps

Of thoughts and dreams of:

Rain

Raindrops,

Never failing in their falling

To catch my fancy,

At the wondrous, bountiful beauty

Of their hopes and hints of:

Rain

WINTER
By Veltra



The ground glitters, as the lamps hit the snow.
A cold white blanket covers the ground.
Everything is sleeping through the night.
As I look outside , everything is quiet.
But when I fall asleep i'm always cold.
As I dream I dream of all the people in my life.
When I wake, the world is still asleep.
The sun light slowly peeks over the tree tops
and the snow starts to glow and sparkle.
After the earth slowly wakes up from its slumber
soon I will be at school but,
the snow slowly falls,
like cherry blossoms in the spring.
Even though winter is going to come to an end,
I won't feel unhappy about it.
Spring will come after winter,
and then summer after spring.
I now just wait for every day to pass.
Nothing ever changes so it does not matter.
It's cold, but that's the beauty of winter.

Father, what is love?

One day a boy approached his father,

a question deep imprinted on his mind.

"Oh, tell me father,

what is love if truth be told?

Some say 'tis like dreaming

with all one's soul tied in a bind."

Smiling wryly the father thought,

but for a moment for an answer he could find.

"Oh, I'll tell you son,

love is not like dreaming,

if truth be told.

True love is known,

not as a dream,

but when one finds

that thing or person

whom for all one's life unwinds

and appears as a dream.

For when one is near this

person, thing, or beast,

one is truly alive.

That, my son,

is the essence of most precious love."

stood in street.
Bare foot.
Dark night.
Felt dirt and stone under my feet.
Traced over stains of oil, blood, urine.
Walked along street barefoot.
Saw my apartment from afar.
Saw neighbours.
Saw slum.
Traced hand over gutter.
Over blood and filth.




And I understood




Understood why.
Why does the cat escape?
What does it reject?
What is it looking for?


Stood in dark street.
Bare foot.
Cat comes over, lies in the gutter.
Scratching back?
Looking for attention?
Affection?


Walk down road.
Past vandalised complexes.
Past naive churches.
People walk past.
See man without shoes.
Listening to the cat's meow.
Meow for the forest of streets and gutters.
Of stains of blood and oil.
Of a chaos.
It plays song.
Yet can't find singer.


Is that what cat looks for?
what cat can't escape?
Song without singer?
It's getting darker...

Creepy Eyes

how once did appearance
of thou offend me
creep me skin with
crawling worms
of pure repulsion

horror to my eyes
causal to my pain
tried did i to run
in vane to where?

yet you were always
there image of my eyes
daunting, looking
peering facing
me by night, by day
damn you images
go the flip away!

but nay!
until . . .
when . . .
then . . .
came . . .
a notion
to say namaste

Namasthe?
myself did i ask

yay!
to the image
i did fear

so did i

and did yes!
my fear subside

so off me went
and namasthe’d
high and low
far and wide

til not i feared
the creepies
that dwelt inside
the mind’s made
up awful eye

Who am I, is this me?
Am I one or thirteen?

I've gone cold, hard to deal
Used to stand where I kneel

Everybody listen
Voices in my head
Everybody listen
Does yours say what mine says?

I want more, than I need
I don't know what is real

Whispering of names, faces
Uniforms I've worn
And all that is gone
Always climbing
To fall down again
Holding onto everything
It's not what it seems

I've been told, dreaming's free
Think I'll go back to sleep

Everybody listen
Voices in my head
Everybody listen
Does yours say what mine says?
Anytime I listen
Voices in my head
Everybody listen
Does yours say what mine says?

Calling out the names, faces
Uniforms I've worn
And all that is gone
Always climbing
To fall down again
Holding onto everything
It's not what it seems

- Alice in Chains (Voices)

Things as Beautiful
When people see some things as beautiful,
other things become ugly.
When people see some things as good,
other things become bad.

Being and non-being create each other.
Difficult and easy support each other.
Long and short define each other.
High and low depend on each other.
Before and after follow each other.

Therefore the Master
acts without doing anything
and teaches without saying anything.
Things arise and she lets them come;
things disappear and she lets them go.
She has but doesn’t possess,
acts but doesn’t expect.
When her work is done, she forgets it.
That is why it lasts forever.


Translated by Stephen Mitchell (1988)
Tao Te Ching

At Fifteen
The Master said, “At fifteen, I had my mind bent on learning.

”At thirty, I stood firm.

“At forty, I had no doubts.

”At fifty, I knew the decrees of Heaven.

”At sixty, my ear was an obedient organ for the reception of truth.

“At seventy, I could follow what my heart desired, without
transgressing what was right.”
~Confusious

I stare out from beneath a tree
my tree
a tree that is closer to me than
my brother
I look out into the green gloom
my home
a home I've known for longer than
my life
From out that dark, verdant space
my fear
A bolt of lightning, pitch, and sleek
my doom



Just made that up off the top of my head? Can you guess the subject matter?

Awaken from the darkness
open up your eyes
see the world for what it is
it's time to realize

the moment that it hits you
the terror then begins
the darkness that was all around
was coming from within

the darkness it consumes you
the fire rages on
the light you thought once filled you up
now seems completely gone

the pain that you must suffer
it almost feels unreal
you kick, you scream, it isn't fair
the cards that fate can deal

then light begins to shimmer
from deep within the dark
hope begins to bubble up
but the pain has left its mark

the light it does not try to force
the darkness from the heart
it seeks to find the balance
that was missing from the start

for what is day without the night
or autumn without spring
the scars will never fade away
from pain imbalance brings

new chapters will be written
mistakes will still be made
debts will surely come your way
in time they will be paid

you no longer fear the darkness
coming from within
with it comes the brightest light
and high you hold your chin

~Rai