I see children crying for their fathers dying. I see women with no dignity, I see men destroying chivalry. I see humans killing the earth and not seeing its worth. What happened to the the world it seems everything has been twirled, we could change it all to a beautiful symphony, make it so vividly, you just have to go within yourselves and see we are more powerful then we see ourselves. Listen to your heart It holds the secret to a new start.
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Posted: Nov 2014
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Author: Mihai Eminescu
Pierdut în suferinta nimicniciei mele,
Ca frunza de pe apa, ca fulgerul în haos,
M-am închinat ca magul la soare si la stele
Sa-ngaduie intrarea-mi în vecinicul repaos;
Nimic sa nu s-auda de umbra vietii mele,
Sa trec ca o suflare, un sunet, o scânteie,
Ca lacrima ce-o varsa zadarnic o femeie...
Zadarnica mea minte de visuri e o schele.
Caci ce-i poetu-n lume si astazi ce-i poetul?
La glasu-i singuratec s-asculte cine vrea.
Necunoscut strecoara prin lume cu încetul
Si nimene nu-ntreaba ce este sau era...
O boaba e de spuma, un cret de val, un nume,
Ce timid se cuteaza în veacul cel de fier.
Mai bine niciodata el n-ar fi fost pe lume
Si-n loc sa moara astazi, mai bine murea ieri.
Carried away in the anguish of oblivion
Leaves in the rain, the fury of thunder
I called like a faun to the sun and heaven
To let me die in peace
My presence on earth is a passing shadow
My life passes like wind, sound and light
I am like a woman crying in the night
The only sanity I retain are flighty dreams.
In all the world, who shall be the poet?
If only he was heard by the stars above
But not known here below
Or noticed by the sand, waves and tide
What does he leave for our time?
A poet being here today is truly a crime
As he should have died ages ago.
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Posted: Jan 2015
About this poem:
I've often wondered what it feels like to be a poet.
Does any one remember? Does it make any difference?
The translation is not literal; I want to capture the romantic sensibility of the poet's feelings of insignificance and the futility of gaining acknowledgment by the world.
This particular poem came from someone who became famous only after his death. Consider whether Mihai Eminescu's pessimism is truly warranted in view of how he is highly regarded by posterity.
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Author: Unknown
Self pity is one of the few pleasures I can afford
It comes in abundance, mainly when I'm bored
I'm told to be happy with what I’ve got
But should I be content with my sorry lot?
I see others who treat loved ones like dirt
Do what they want, don't care who they hurt
They conceal their face with a wall of lies
Yet I look on with envious eyes
So should I be a drunk and give a girl a slap?
Sleep with her mates and tell her a load of crap?
Cover my tracks, be a bare-faced liar?
Maybe this way I'll get what I desire?
People say pick yourself up off the floor
But I just fall back down, can't do it much more
Love in abundance, so heavy to bare
But I can't find anyone willing to share
I feel used and abused, I hope they're amused
Is everyone happy? cos I’m just confused
Been told I'm not a real man well, maybe they're right
cos real men don't cry their way through the night
Maybe it's because I wear my heart on my sleeve
And not afraid to say what I believe
Maybe it's time to build up a wall
Padlock the door and hide from them all
My feelings I find hard to hide
So perhaps I should lock them deep inside
Seal up the lock and swallow the key
So they will remain embedded in me
We all have a soul-mate of that I am sure
But I don't have the strength to search anymore
Maybe I should resign to being alone
But don’t give me pity; I’ve enough of my own
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2009
About this poem:
Please feel free to comment on any of my poems be it positive or negative as this is the first time i have aired them and am curious as to your opinions.
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Author: annamounous
Bari mushkil se bnaya tha khud ko oske kabil,,,,
osny ye keh k chor dia tumse mohabbat tu hai par panay ki khowaish nahi
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Posted: Feb 2012
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Author: Unknown
When i was young I read about prince charming. In daydreams of thought, a little white house, on a hill with childern and animals at play.Then one day I grew away,started a future to say, as there is no charming in this day. I worked and toiled hoping some day he will ask and I will say. Charming huh, he grew to be a fake. I worked and toiled till I started to gray, hoping he will ask and I will say. Charming huh no way. I work and toil to this day, finely realize charming is a dream per say. I'll work and toil the rest of my days, till I'm old and lonely and unable to play.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Mar 2012
About this poem:
dreams are nice,but they always end and charming will never exist.
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Sadness cannot be defined
To one, that's heart seems
To have hardened, to and through
The vileness of this World
Sadness overcomes ones soul
To the level of oblivion
Oblivion to, what goes on around,
In this vile and lustful World
Sadness torments the soul,
To the point of despondency,
To the point of losing one's mind,
To the vileness of this World
Sadness can be overcome,
To a greater power than oneself,
For me it's Jesus, God's Son who died to save us,
From this vile World.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Apr 2021
About this poem:
Trying to define, a philosophical stance of eliminating sorrow.
But somehow end up in a Theistic view.
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Seems like sunday but it's Saturday
Has this ever happened to you
Clowning around and lost a fun day
And what I got is Saturday blue
Raindrops falling loneliness calling
Now I'm stuck in a world of solitude
The quietness is stalling, time on the clock
What I got is Saturday blue
I tuned out the weather man,could have made other plans
And now it's really swell listening to your voice mail
Telling me you are out with you know who
To me his name is Saturday blue
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Sep 2014
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They can stare with an evil look animosity
Staying mad cause of who I would like to see
That's ok anyway they turn their head
But if I were a rich man nothing would be said
They seem to be jealous want to keep my age safe and sound
It's a mystery why they keep trying to use esp
There needs to be another form of communication instead
And if I were a rich man nothing would be said
This crazy thing for years has been going on
As of yet they haven't wore me down and when I look around
A lot of faces are still turning red
But if I were a rich man nothing would be said
So you got a shirt and you got a tie
You wear for your serious business as years go by
If you get a choking feeling it's all in your head
Seriously if I were a rich man nothing would be said
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2019
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Author: Unknown
so you care it makes me want to hate you more because as a friend its nothing like true love i will not just be a friend i would rather die so poison me with a friendship i don't want because im in love with you no mater what so f..k you for loving me only as a friend let me go im only the loser at the end of this rainbow let it be over just let me go
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Posted: Nov 2010
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I'm a train wreck, all aboard.
I'm a never was, nevermore.
I'm a dark cloud pourin rain
an effort made in vain
to keep warm
I should've been the one
to pass away from this place
I'd have given anything to see his face
why'd it have to be
him instead of me?
well, this isn't what I expected
and life shouldn't
be this way
from the outside lookin in
it looks like i could win
but I'm rejected
am I so easy to walk away from
no-one stays I'm
feelin like a big mistake
now it's gettin hard to see
the point of me
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Sep 2012
About this poem:
I wrote this a number of years ago thinkin of my oldest brother micheal who died at birth. 'nuff said.
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