"ager" poems
Tanha yuhi kat jata safar agar tum sath na hote.....
manzil yuhi rhe jaati agar tum sath na hote....
dekhu to duniya mai saari magar....
ye rang dekh na pau....
jee kar bhi is duniya me....
adhoora bin tere rhe jau....
ye baarish yuhi tham jaati ager tum sath na hote....
ye duniya meri tham jaati agar tum sath na hote....
me jaanu to duniya ko kaeyi naam se.....
me jaanu mujhe bs tere naam se....
ye duniya na jaan paati mujhe....
jo ye lafz meri phechaan na hote....
ye naam yu he bikhar jata ager jo tum sath na hote....
hasti meri mar jaati ager tum phechaan na hote....
By : HR COLLECTION
Dec 18, 2015
Dec 18, 2015 at 2:47 AM UTC
HATE BEING THE ONE THAT HAS TO BEHAVE
YOU SEE, I KNOW MY BROTHER IS ALLOWED TO SAY WHAT HE WANTS
BUT I HAVE TO WATCH WHAT I SAY, SOMETIMES I AM JUST BEING COOL
I HATE PEOPLE TELLING ME I HAVE TO BE GOOD, LIKE MY PERFECT FAMILY
IT’S HARD TO DISCIPLINED TO, JUST BECAUSE, I MUCKED WITH THE OLD FOGIES
I HATE, HOW PEOPLE TREAT ME LIKE A TOTAL AND UTTER LOSER
YOU SEE, WHY DO PEOPLE TRY AND DISCIPLINE ME, I FIND IT HARD
LIKE I CAN’T HELP IT, IF I HATED DADS DISCIPLINE RULE
I CAN’T HELP IT, IF I AM A NICE PERSON
YOU SEE, IF I GOOF UP, I AM TOLD, I HAVE NO MATES ANYMORE
ALL BECAUSE I SAID SOMETHING OUT OF LINE
I KNOW MY BROTHER HAS A WIFE AND KIDS, AND WAS COOL
AND YOU KNOW WHAT I HATE, PEOPLE ONLY LIKING ME
IF I BEHAVE, CAUSE I AM COOL, MAN, THE COOLEST DUDE IN CANBERRA
I HATE WHEN I HEAR THE VOICES BE LIKE US, WHEN I EXPRESS MYSELF OVER THE WEB
YOU SEE, WHY DO I HAVE TO BE NICE, I AM A COOL AND REGULAR GUY
I DESERVE TO BE LIKED, I DON’T WANT TO BE LIKED FOR BEING PATHETIC, NO WAY
I HAD VOICES FROM THE PARANORMAL, YA SEE I AM A NICE COOL PERSON
WHY CAN’T I ENJOY THINGS, JUST BECAUSE I ****** OFF PEOPLE
I FEEL IF I SEE THESE PEOPLE, THEY WILL SAY TO ME, I WAS WRONG
BUT I HATE BEING DISCIPLINED, PLEASE DON’T DISCIPLINE ME
I AM 45, AND I AIN’T COMMITTING ANY CRIMES, I AM STILL SEEING THESE DUDES
I USED TO GET DRUNK WITH, SOME WERE GOOD BLOKES
IT’S JUST THAT BACK THEN, I WASN’T PREPARED FOR OUR OUTINGS
I LIKE FOOTBALL, AND I LIKE GOING OUT HAVING FUN
AND I DON’T WANT TO BE TOLD TO BEHAVE MYSELF I HATED BEING TREATED LIKE A NICE AND POLITE MAN
WHILE MY MATES CAN BE LEFT ALONE, PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE
I HATE THAT MAN KEN, I HAVE TO BEHAVE FOR HIM
I CAN’T STAND BEHAVING FOR ANYONE, BEHAVING IS DUNB AND BEHAVING IS WRONG
I HATE CATHOLIC MORALS, AND I HATE DISCIPLINE, BUT I FEEL ONLY OLD FOGIES HAVE DISCIPLINE MORALS
I TRY AND BE GOOD, WHEN I GO OUT TO EVENTS, BUTB SOMETIMES IT’S HARD TO EXCEPT DISCIPLINE
CAUSE WHY CAN’T I JUST BE ALLOWED TO MAKE A BIT OF NOISE
I AM ON MEDICATION, YA SEE IT’S MY DESTINATION, I WANT TO BE HAPPY, SO I TAKE MEDICATION
I THOUGHT DAD WAS STARTING TO SEE MY WAY OF LIFE, YOU SEE, I HATE BEING TREATED LIKE A GOOD BOY
BEING A GOOD BOY DOESN’T WORK FOR ME
I WANT TO BE NORMAL, I WANT TO BE LIKED
I SING A SONG, I WOULD LOVE TO HAVE A BEER WITH BAZ BOY, CAUSE HE TRIED TO JUST THINK I LIKED DISCIPLINE
I HATE BEING TOLD TO SHUT UP, IF YOU WANT ME TO SHUT UP, I WILL NEVER SHUT UP, CAUSE, I FOLLOW MY OWN STYLE
WHICH IS FUN, I BELIEVE IN HAVING FUN WHEREVER I GO OUT INTO THIS WORLD
I CAN’T UNDERSTAND WHY YOU CAN’T REALISE, I HATE DISCIPLINE, I DON’T WANT TO BE TREATED LIKE I AM TOO WOOSEY FOR LIFE
I HATE BEING TOLD I HAVE TO BEHAVE, WHY DON’T YOU BEHAVE, YOU TELL ME TO BEHAVE, YOUR A TOTAL LOSER, BUDDY OLE BOY OLE CHUM OLE PAL
I AM GOING TO THE BOTANIC GARDENS TONIGHT, BUT I DON’T WANT TO HANG WITH DISCIPLINE LOVING NERDS
I DON’T DO BEHAVING, OK I WILL NEVER DO BEHAVING, I HATE BEING TREATED LIKE AN OLD FOGIE
I AM A COOL MIDDLE AGER, WHO LOVES TO PARTY
STOP DISCIPLINING ME, YA ****
OR I WILL NEVER TALK TO YOU AGAIN
Jan 16, 2015
Jan 16, 2015 at 6:09 PM UTC
As Dusk Slowly Grasped The Day In Cold Hands,
Blue Birds Snuggled Into Their Nests Of Soft Hay,
Clouds Rolled In--Tucking In The Frosted Lands,
Ducking Into Sleep Fragile Flowers Waited To Play,
Eager For The Day Robins Closed Their Tired Eyes,
Ferns Sway In A Befuddled Wind--It's Mind Whirling,
Gregarious Crickets Shake Away Their Frosty Ties,
Homesick Linnets Wings Spread--Elegantly Swirling,
Illuminating The Night Sat The Paled Lonely Moon,
Jubilant It Is Though, Upon It's View From The Sky,
Kissable Caterpillars Lounge In Their Cocoons,
Lost In Sleep They Dream Of The Clouds So High,
Mother's Of The Nocturnal World Lead Their Young,
Northward To Play In Wheat Filled Prairies,
Organic Love Loomed Where The Branches Hung,
Promenading Inside A Wind Smelling Like Berries,
Quietly The First Few Drops Of Rain Fell,
Ricocheting Off Of Budding Leaves,
Sweet Mother Earth Caught Everything In Her Spell,
Tonight A Sacred Lullaby Is Whispered By The Trees As,
Untamed Ligtning Struck The Frozen Ground,
Vibrating The Sky Thunder Crashed,
Water Swam Through The Air Creating No Sound,
Xenon and Nitrogen Screamed While They Clashed,
Yet No Gentle Creature Was Awakened--Grasping
ZZzz's Under The Year's First Shower
Apr 7, 2013
Apr 7, 2013 at 9:36 PM UTC
I know That Times Will Change.
The Struggle is the same.
The Battle lines are always where they've been.
We've been charging for so long.
This time we must be strong,
Or be scattered like the leaves blown by the wind.
Yesterday as I was walking.
I heard these two men talking
About a third man who wasn't there.
I heard them put him down,
Just because his skin is brown.
It's no wonder that the world just isn't fair.
I heard a woman say
She did not have equal pay
As the men who did the same job that she did.
When she asked the bosses why,
The looked her right in the eye,
And told her to go home and raise her kids.
In the poorer neighborhood
Where the roads are never good,
And the prices in the market are too high,
When you bother to compair,
The food is cheaper where
The well-to-do are sure to shop and buy.
I know that times will change.
The struggle stays the same.
The Battle lines are always where they've been.
We've been charging for so long.
This time we must be strong,
Or be scattered like the leaves blown by the wind.
They said in the news cast
A man was beaten bad.
He was on his way for treatment when he died.
He had dared to love a man,
and they called that love a sin.
I think the only sin was how they lied.
There's an teen-ager in jail
Being held without a bail.
His only crime was coming to our land.
Before they let him go,
They'll strip him of his hope,
Then send him to the gangs across the Rio Grande.
I know the times will change.
The struggle stays the same.
The battle lines are always where they've been.
We've been charging for so long.
This time we must be strong,
Or scatter like the leaves blown by the wind.
We've been fighting for so long.
This time we must stand strong,
Stronger than the leaves blown by the wind.
Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 1:34 PM UTC
We will start with every Jew of every sect.
then every Muslim of every sect.
then every Christian of every sect.
then every Buddist of every sect.
Then every Vedic Hindu of every sect.
then every Animist of every sect.
then every New Ager of every sect.
then every person who lives "religiously".
then every person who "believes in and worships" any "god" or "goddess".
then every person of either *** or any of the five skin colours.
then the redheads.
then the disabled.
then the "gays" male or female.
then the "Politicians" of any belief.
then every member or supporter of any Oligarchy anywhere.
then every Capitalist and supporters of every sect.
then every Socialist and supporters of every sect.
then every Liberal and supporters of every sect.
then every Monarchist and supporters of every sect.
then every "aristocrat" and their supporters.
then every Militarist and supporters of every sect.
then every Fascist and supporters of every sect.
then every "Freedom" lover of whatever belief.
then every Revolutionary and supporters of whatever cause.
then every Criminal of whatever crime.
every Hippy.
every Ecofreak.
every alcoholic user.
every tobacco smoker.
every Cannabis smoker.
every priest of every "religion"
every Khat chewer.
every ***** of any junk.
every celebrity especially public ones.
every historian.
every novelist.
every poet.
every lecturer.
every expert.
every "adviser".
every spokesperson.
every print or electronic journalist especially.
every Television chat show host.
every one else.
Its the only way to get neither War nor Peace
on this war ravaged planet,
but simple existence without any corruption or criminality.
and then who will be left?.
NO ONE!!
Except me and my twin flame
and oh boy will we have a great time of it.
Alone but all one.
just us and the Isness of the Universe.
wandering this beautiful playground gifted to us by the Isness of the Universe.
The Isness of the Universe to walk with and talk with.
Fruit hanging from trees .
Cold clear waters to drink.
Nuts to crunch.
oh and Amber our huge sheppie--
connosseur of Pork Crackling
and doggy nonsense and wisdom.
www.thefournobletruthsrevised.co.uk
Aug 12, 2014
Aug 12, 2014 at 1:26 AM UTC
A (b)old
heart ho(l)ds
more courag(e)
and (s)atiates
more mind(s)
(e)ager
for knowle(d)ge
Aug 23, 2018
Aug 23, 2018 at 6:41 AM UTC
She will be even more beautiful,
Heavier will be her eyelids,
Eager will be men for her body.
Would she even miss me,
I am not aware about it,
Longer this time spent,
Lot she will try to forget.
Ringing bells of her heart,
Every time she will bathe,
Pouring water from the shower,
Early tears will get veiled,
No memories get subsided,
Time spent she will recall.
Dec 28, 2016
Dec 28, 2016 at 12:54 AM UTC
Wide-eyed, piercing contemplation…newborn.
Meeting my gaze, reading my thoughts…you want nothing.
Depth
Focused, deliberate…toddler.
Intently pressuring us to submit…you want what you want!
Concentrated
Fun-loving, cute…8-year old.
Extrovert, star…you know what you want!
Gregarious
Willful, unyielding…pre-teen.
Confusion, puberty…you do what you want!
Inflexible
Solo, driving…teen-ager.
Wandering, searching…you’re not sure what you want.
Rootless
Gone, missing…young adult.
Unknown, mystery…I don’t know what you want.
Mourning
Renewed, home…NOW.
Unlimited, enthusiastic…we’re creating what we want.
Love
Jul 14, 2013
Jul 14, 2013 at 2:04 PM UTC
B iting down on
I ce cold
S ilence
E ager to
X - claim the truth
U gly as it may be
A ll I want is
L ove
Feb 25, 2016
Feb 25, 2016 at 8:05 PM UTC
i.
A crane cometh around
Down by the superannuated rivulet;
No machinery by this place
Mud bank's, phantom silhouette's.
ii.
I canst sense
The Miami Indians prowling the copse;
Their regard for living was natural
As the new ager's that came after, destroyed the crop's.
iii.
Thou canst seeith the moccasin's
Slithereth down the way;
Their black scale's, telleth tale's
Of a time of freedom's day.
iv.
I goeth down to this old tributary
Whence the land was hunted by bow;
I'm respecting the land, as it shalt be
Not doing as the newbies know.
v.
As the babies groweth, and the ghost's do showeth
The narrative that's meant to be left;
I shalt keepeth the aboriginal modus operandi
And walketh with the spirit's, of this place they hath lent.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Aug 19, 2015
Aug 19, 2015 at 10:11 AM UTC
today i realized that it might not matter how hard i try. i might not be able to fix myself. i don't know how to connect. everything and everyone gives me anxiety and bores me and confuses me and i don't know what type of interactions and words to select HAGSDJUSKRVYEURSYBEISEVBRKHVFDJHJ
sitting on the corner of depot and main and i'm staring into the forehead of a bleach tan middle ager with a plaid shirt that looks like easter died. im good except i thought summer was like a door with an exit sign but i forgot it's not always greener at the end of the ride
are there ends to these rides? the speed fluctuates faster than i'd like sometimes, i don't know how to adapt to
anything, really.
coping is hard i'll give them that much. no one to call. no one inside me feeling like trying at all.
i always rhyme by the end of these
spreading wings at the end of it all
but i was never too good with estimates
and fast
we
fall
May 9, 2018
May 9, 2018 at 7:39 PM UTC
Creating a new poem is like creating a new story
a new paradigm from the depths of history's bowls
from a nightmare, we are to create a dreamscape
something that tantalizes the soul, and draws us near
to the greater perfection within ourselves... who knew?
Creating a new poem, much like a new society
has to start from within, and be drawn out somehow,
and some will be more inspired than others to invent
their own approach, to instill their own values,
to be critical enough to recognize what is most sacred
Creating a new poem demands the ability of the artist
to take hold of his or her feelings, thoughts, and intuit
the flow of consciousness in just the right cadence
remembering the song of ages that goes and flows
Being the poet that you are, your heart is stretched and open
yet you are afraid to be as the caged bird: freedom frightens you!
And in creating your new, new poem, you would be as angels
singing from the achrimony of the ages, singing light and dark
good and evil: but remember god and devil are just a letter off both ways.
Creating a new world is like creating a new poem: if you let go
and just do it, the miracle will wash away the banality of a bygone age
and the new **** will be born as a rose red flower in flames
before the technocratic temple of bright lights and ********
Create a new art, artists, poets, and those average ager's
be a revolution in the heart, an evolution in the swing,
bring first the arrogance, then the confidence of knowing:
you are the master who makes the grass green: the universe in your eyes
the solar flare in your step, and change this world from a prison
to a paradise!
Create your new poem, and singe it like a caged bird!
Give your language the power of princes, without the pomp
believe in yourself and let go of the awkward moment you had
with the love of your dreams last night; create your new life
and transform this new poem into a rally cry for the poet class!
Nov 3, 2014
Nov 3, 2014 at 11:36 AM UTC
Falling off the edge of the earth
Caught by the universe
Swallowed by the mackerel sky
The universe cried
For an astronaut
Au revoir!
Ager chills
I tugged the pulley bone
A wish
A dive
In a new alive
Far away from home
Floating in the devilment
High
And high
Avoiding the frog-stranglers
And sediment
I sighed a why
Should I ever try
A return to the life of
Abandonment
Sep 25, 2018
Sep 25, 2018 at 2:36 PM UTC
When they were distributing cuteness,
Her soul stole a little excess of it,
And granted it to her body,
That body is so cute.
Young forever, she stole my heart,
Originally, I had no love left,
Unperturbed she made me right.
She is the dream wife of many,
Than all of them, I am so lucky,
Of an Angel you are a daughter,
Living your life you're like her,
Ever caring about me you are.
A new hope has emanated,
Not just from my heart,
Definitely also from your.
Dismantled was the kingdom of grief,
I feel so elated now with relief,
So magical is your voice,
Care I'll 'bout you forevermore,
A fresh breeze blows unending here,
Rejuvinating my time you are,
Do hope for the future,
Eager is our love we've here,
Dearest lovers we are of each other.
Wisps of happiness float now,
Elephantine happiness ensues,
Rosy my jar has now spilled,
Effortlessly the grief replaced.
Mini packs of positivity we have,
You just need to have faith in love.
Near your heart I find my refuge,
Ever bettering is this ex-recluse,
Goaded you have me with love,
Antiwar you are like the dove,
Tight are the knots of our love,
I feel so lucky being with you,
Verbs of future like marrying,
Especially seem so practicable,
Solely coz of you, my dear Pooh Bear!
Sep 30, 2017
Sep 30, 2017 at 1:36 AM UTC
It's an illness, and what a wicked one. It lasts five stages. Through four stages it tortures you the best it can. It tortures you with nostalgia and melancholia. I will tell you about these four stages, until you finally reach the fifth and last stage, the stage that will feel like redemption to you. Brace yourself, this illness can **** before you reach the final stage.
Stage 1, denial / delusion
In this stage, you will deny what happened, and will live in a fantasy your poor mind created for you to keep you alive.
You know exactly what has happened, you know the truth. However, this hideous creature, this torturous illness won't let you "get over" the truth that easily. It will torture you with false hopes, wrecking your mind because each and every night, you will wonder if what has happened was real or just a bad nightmare of yours.
If you made it, be lucky for a second. Stage 2 is awaiting you.
Stage 2, wrath
In this stage, you will feel an ager, a rage you never felt before. You will have the urge to destroy and to burn, not only things, but also you, the memories, and just everything and everyone surrounding you.
The illness wants to destroy you, and it gives you ire so you can "prepare" yourself for what will come for you. Destruction in the finest, most painful ways, you can't even imagine.
You survived Stage 2, now let's take a look on how desperate you can become in Stage 3.
Stage 3, negotiating
In this stage, your desperateness to wipe the slate clean will show. The illness makes you parley with the wildest, most unreal people you may meet in your life, only to undo what has happened.
You would sell your sould to the devil.
You would give your life to the Grim Reaper.
You would… You might even want to make a deal with me.
I think we should stop about what you would, it might get to horrendous for you. So we reach Stage 4, the stage that has the highest verisimilitude to **** you.
Stage 4, depression
You will cry waterfalls of tears, so be careful that you don't drown in the sea of hot, salty water your ever so beautiful eyes created.
This stage of torture is where the illness got quite creative. I'm sure you heard a lot about depression, but in reality it is even worse than the worst you expected. It might feel unreal from time to time, but I tell you, it is real – savagely real.
It might **** you, so try your best to survive this stage. That's the only admonition I can give you.
You survived? Congratulations! Hereby we reach
Stage 5, acceptance
In this stage, the final stage, you finally reach the redemption you craved for so long. You will finally be able to leave behind what has downed you so much. You will be able to fly again, your wings are back.
However, be careful. This stage is the shortest of them all.
Many people before you have failed before reaching this salvific stage.
I hope you won't underestimate the illness. You might have reached redemption, but it only waits to strike again and to devour you.
Be careful, even for I will watch over you.
May 17, 2014
May 17, 2014 at 5:08 AM UTC
When words start flowing, lyrics rhyme
And you and I, we know its time
To do something but how?
Everybody plays his part
Revels in his job or art.
What I want to share today
Are some thoughts that first may
Tease or calm your mind
Either way you’ll read
Right what you need
Where this story has its place
All the peeps are full of grace
Torn at times, well at heart.
Eating healthy food
Respect and share good mood
Who are you, what is your thing?
Are you of those that fortunes bring?
The moment here the minute gone
Eager, but afraid to speak
Rule out fear, come reach your peak
Why shall I care, you ask and think
Ahead am I of those that sink
Thoughts can change you know
Elaborate on your perception
Revaluate your own direction
With those that care, you shall surround
Affiliate with taste and sound.
Thus please enjoy the moment now.
Ergo what I recommend:
Relax, be water my friend
Aug 22, 2016
Aug 22, 2016 at 4:05 PM UTC
I can still see your sky blue eyes as you smiled at me on our long walks
Lost in you so much that I felt you could do nothing wrong
Oblivious to the fact that you never seemed to be there when I needed you
Validating all of your lies to the people around me, because you said
that they'd never understand
Eager to please you no matter the cost
Yeilding to your wishes, because that 's what you said people in love do
Obsessed. That's what my friends said you were. But I wouldn't let them sway me from your hold
Unable to live without you
Oct 24, 2015
Oct 24, 2015 at 11:32 AM UTC
Ravaged, brittle skin
flaking, and scarred
reflects back,
granting insight into 40 years
abuse and misuse
karmic payback
in the form of arthritis.
Creaking knee pops and snaps
giving substance to movement
beyond simple motion;
creating an ambiance,
a veritable orchestra,
to standing up.
Looking back
gives my neck a tweak
instantly stabbing
and shooting into the back of my skull
for the next few hours
I lay in the dark
with a cool compress
trying to rid myself of
a silly headache.
I think I should try
eating a bit better
and combine that action
with a certain level of physical
activity;
that way,
you don’t have to read any more
of this ****
Jun 16, 2015
Jun 16, 2015 at 12:16 PM UTC
Helpful and caring
Eager to please any soul
Raring for his heart
Feb 21, 2016
Feb 21, 2016 at 7:56 AM UTC
Tis the hour when They creep—
Humming tortured lullabies—
Every night, before you sleep,
You should offer your goodbyes.
Leaving fervent trails of death
In every moment you draw breath.
Viral: in a Hellish way.
Eager to feed off your decay.
I know that you can’t see Them now;
Not where you are, anyhow…
You mustn’t let Them see you know,
Or nothing will be left, you see.
Under shadows They will wait;
Readying Their final blow.
Never let Them eat your eyes!
I’ve seen what use They have for those!
Granted, They are good with lies;
Holding you within Their throes.
Though this is true, you must resist—
Must not give them up, my son—
As, though you may be on Their list,
Rarely is there only one!
Even if the nightmare dies,
Some will remain to find your eyes.
Dec 14, 2013
Dec 14, 2013 at 11:24 PM UTC
you bashed out your songs
and they spoke of what I could not
A rebellious teen-ager
dumb struck and hoarse
Jul 3, 2015
Jul 3, 2015 at 7:57 AM UTC
Magical images of the past
Eternal greatness ever lasts
Mystical travels for my heart
Open doors, times apart
Rickety works of my soul
Indented into my whole
Eager for creation of more
Set sail for what's left in store
Apr 24, 2014
Apr 24, 2014 at 7:27 AM UTC
Here are some great contemporary writers who are alive, active, really dynamic, and really making their lives and the lives of others happen. I wanted to share, and please add your own "writers that inspire" in the comment section! (please make them living writers!)
D. Watkins
Deborah Ager
Rita Dove
Feb 14, 2018
Feb 14, 2018 at 5:38 PM UTC