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Women live by heart
Men by head,
Former is ever alive
The latter is emotionally dead.

Heart represents love
So women feel more deserted
Head is crafty
So men are less broken hearted.

Men are extroverts
Always look out for pleasures,
Women are introverts
Staying in is their nature.

The former is bumble bee
Never is contented with one,
The latter is honey bee
Collects for the she loves one.

Women are for what they have
Men look for more and more,
They squander for pleasures
Women take care of the store.

Men are like South Pole
They are haughty and aggressive,
Women are North Pole
Humility makes them submissive.

This variance makes
The former very intolerant,
The latter bears the brunt
As she is by nature very tolerant.

Men are too spendthrift
Are fond of too much flirting,
Women are preservers
As she is fond of saving and saving.

But these differences
Are in tune with Mother Nature
Positive mixed with negative
Produces the newest manpower.
Women Are Preservers. Nature Has Made Them So.
Adrian Apr 1
The spiders glide in night by night,
Following a trail, light by light.

On top of the webs stand the spiders,
Ready to attack all threats with lighters.

A schism of venom to fill the cracks
Of the pieces that have always fit
And a wall is lifted upon their backs;
A webbed foundation of grit.
I know it means a metalworks, but foundry also sounds like a place where foundations are made.
Brother Iran
by Michael R. Burch

Brother Iran, I feel your pain.
I feel it as when the Turk fled Spain.
As the Jew fled, too, that constricting span,
I feel your pain, Brother Iran.

Brother Iran, I know you are noble!
I too fear Hiroshima and Chernobyl.
But though my heart shudders, I have a plan,
and I know you are noble, Brother Iran.

Brother Iran, I salute your Poets!
your Mathematicians!, all your great Wits!
O, come join the earth’s great Caravan.
We’ll include your Poets, Brother Iran.

Brother Iran, I love your Verse!
Come take my hand now, let’s rehearse
the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam.
For I love your Verse, Brother Iran.

Bother Iran, civilization’s Flower!
How high flew your towers in man’s early hours!
Let us build them yet higher, for that’s my plan,
civilization’s first flower, Brother Iran.

Published by MahMag (translated into Farsi by Mahnaz Badihian), Other Voices International, Thanal Online (India), Deviant Art, Portal Vapasin (Farsi). Keywords/Tags: Iran, Iranian, Farsi, Persia, Persian, brotherhood, culture, civilization, poetry, literature, poets, mathematicians, philosophers
Aneesh H Jan 31
'Every competition - is not
A struggle to win over others
But a battle over one's own insecurities
To overcome a perception of exclusion'
I have been a part of the rat race, yet did not want to be a rat. I have often felt, that there is so much of aimless competition in our daily lives that the purpose of doing an activity and experiencing it without the secret feeling of jealousy, and an urge to win it, is nearly impossible to have!

I look at this maddening race of life, from an outsider's perspective. Rather than be a part of the mad race, I would be happy to stand outside and introspect. I
How graceful and more fulfilling it would have been to progress at each one's own pace, pausing a moment in between, to reflect upon the freshly bloomed flower and its beauty, or the morning chirp of the the birds, their flight and gaiety?

Is competition a necessary outgrowth of civilization, or a gangrene that the body of civilization can do away with? Has it dis-cultured us?! What are your thoughts?
Mystic Ink Plus Dec 2019
And when
You are asked
"How old are you?"

My soul is
Much older
Your blood line
Just reply

Just reply
If you don't want to
Still you have to
Genre: Abstract
Theme: Carbon dating
Ira Desmond Oct 2019
Do not ever allow yourself
to reduce the incomprehensible miracle
of your very existence

to basic questions of self-worth.
Do not ever allow your boss to write you off
as nothing more than a worker

who is failing to meet
some arbitrary set of expectations.
Do not ever allow a bully to tell you
that you are nothing more than a child

lacking in physical strength.
Do not ever allow a politician
to boil your being

down to a cheap distillation
of inside jokes and snickering, racist

The fact that you are here,
alive and present
and reading these words
is a stentorian, staggering miracle.

We are,
all of us,
perhaps guilty
of occasionally forgetting
this fundamental fact.

But we must remember,
you and I,
and every other being with us,
that we sprang forth from nothing—
absolute oblivion—
into awareness and consciousness
and individuality, and personality
in this gargantuan, freezing, largely empty universe.

Allow me to remind you
that that idea
is entirely incredible—
the purest void was somehow spun into
the totality of your being—
into the infinity of the present moment—
a Möbius-strip mindfuck
expanding outward in space and time
reaching toward all directions simultaneously.

The fact that you and I are here is miraculous.
And the fact that you exist is a miracle.

Do not ever let
our sickly civilization
try to tell you anything to the contrary.
Juhlhaus May 2019
Gravel mounds in the mist
Are the mountain ranges of fantasy,
Spring green, eerie seen
Through commuter train windows.

Pitched roofs recede
Into infinite distance,
And junkyard parking lots are legion
In the gray suburban obscurity.

Factories and landfills loom,
Monuments and masoleums,
The labor and the leavings
Of Earth's little colossi.
Musing on the view from a morning commuter train.
Jordan Hudson Feb 2019
Civilization and the Earth will freeze
Signs and words that we can't leave
Not there, cold air
We all will dare and silently grieve
Population gone, this song
Will explain the pain of us all
As this world falls with us, God is there
Civilization and the Earth will freeze
Signs and words that we can't leave
Not there, cold air
We all will dare and silently grieve
Population gone, this song
Will explain the pain of us all
As this world falls with us, God is there
In the air in the sky
We all will die with a sign
That signifies our lies
And stains and mistakes
That creates the pain and the rain that **** us slowly then quick
Kills us slowly then quick
Yeah, Yeah
Roads slick, guns click, police raid, people invade
News is on, TVs glowing, phones showing
People gone, water flowing, countries owing
World of today, this way to the edge
Of the Earth, my birth signified a sign
Of the end but I will rhyme
Will not stop, modern cops
Protect, building tops, flooded docks
Bunny hops to the top
Yeah, we won't stop, yeah we won't stop
Sewer flow, street light glow
Main roads, city crows, canals low
Civilization I know
Civilization I know
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Dead sea
Ain't nothin' left, yeah, told you, look around, what you see, nothing, that's right, it's a dead sea
Civilization, title says it all
Ivy Collins Jan 2019
suffering Clots in my gut
humanity gurgles In my throat
holes drilled into the Veins of the earth
as i taste a country drenched in colonIzed blood on my Lips
a melting arctIc leaks from my eyes
weStern destinies fester in my chest
as the fissures in its surface smoke my lungs out like burning gAsoline
i can Touch each pole with the pads of my fingers
and shake the glassy world
one day i will lay flat and press my tongue agaInst the world
and feel it dissOlve in my mouth
like the fizzy tablet of Nothing it is
ravyn Dec 2018
its quiet,
except for the humming of the
lights and
the electronics plugged in for
my convenience

of course,
everything is here for my
convenience, Right?
who else
would it be for
if there was anyone
else but me

of course,
im still polite
even if there isnt
anyone else to annoy
im still civilized

(what is civilized? if
im the only one?
am i the civilization? i
dont think
thats the
definition. organism?)

i cant hear anyone else
or see anyone else
i could be anyone else
but who exists to prove myself to?

a tv is playing softly behind me
i turn to it
its a relic of times past
that people were
once here
and thriving

my phone pings,
startling me

dont forget the milk
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