Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"creeds" poems
Rebel Against Rebellion I have nothing to prove No creeds, no doctrine to upkeep We all have so much freedom when we close our eyes And just think Maybe you need to humble yourself enough To lose Rebel Against Rebellion Because they're all just books Your sword is looking pretty dull sir Why are you so inclined to hurt? Thought your prophet preached LOVE? So repeat words Choose what you choose Choose wisely Because soon the snake will stop his hissing Constrict And become your noose Rebel Against Rebellion I think I'll call your bluff I bleed, I sin, I'll die But I'm not feeling hot standing here So tell me again why I should be afraid Of my fleet mortal life? Rebel Against Rebellion Because a Sheppard leads a flock But you never followed Your a goat Caught in your lies Bureaucracy, Democracy Man it's all a joke A silly excuse Rules, the sacrum of man's brain Your doctrine is becoming lame And your beliefs more insane Coliseum A game to play to make you so entertained Please write another rule Prove once again The medium you choose is jewels You fool Rebel Against Rebellion Why would I cut my brother short? Because of appearance and all your silly rules So many when uttered I choke For all we know life itself a joke Oh the irony What began as unity Became bowing down To man's hierarchy So I Rebel Against Rebellion I'm a servant of no man I know God has a plan That over cries your silly fear Unravels your vines Your words Agenda and "Time"
0
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 3:00 AM UTC
Rebel Against Rebellion
You who goes by "Lonely" Yes you, who reads these rhymes Please pause here for a moment I won't take much of your time You see my friend, I'm lonely too In the dark with paper and pen So I'm writing you this poem and signing it "Your Friend" Though I'll prob'ly never see you nor ever know your name I do not need to see your face nor know your cash and fame I do not care what color you are how short or tall or fat I'm weary of all these parties and creeds So, for a moment, forget all of that Yes you, dear friend, forget with me Inhale this moment serene where we are not opinions or castes Just two humans with two glowing screens Be human with me, simple and pure For a moment breathe deep and feel free then should you have the time, and a halfway good rhyme Perhaps write a poem for me. Signed, Your Friend
0
Sep 30, 2017
Sep 30, 2017 at 12:09 AM UTC
To You
The marchers make their way today through town to Cardiff Bay with whistles, shouts and banners up for sweet old Mary Jane they're marching for her freedom all ages, colours, creeds have come in joyful spirits to help us free the ****  The rich, the poor, the movers and shakers the blowback kings and part-time partakers the rollers, the tokers, the bongers and such the teenage goth stoners who've had way too much skin up as they march while making their point and meet up with new friends while sharing a joint. Then down at the bay side when the bands start to play they'll **** in the sunshine till the end of the day.
0
May 3, 2014
May 3, 2014 at 11:18 AM UTC
Sweet Mary Jane
A tug of war It is the past experience and what was saw and felt A word in keeping a person in line A restriction of one’s thoughts and actions A procedure in holding one back ******* being a form beyond one’s accord Thank God there is a Lord There is a chance to survive More than a thought being a strive I dream but all I see is a nightmare I see effort, but when will there be preserver? Its like a road block with detour A method of turn back I feel as if I am trapped in bonds Maybe I am still sleep and need to wake up from my yond Perhaps it’s nothing more than a dream It’s my thinking I am in a movie stream But its truly tough being rough A different slavery oppression of the past with a theory of the present A overseer continuing in present oppression A silenced voice having no expression The downward bound with no mountain reach It’s time for a rebellion approach Oppression is real and not a joke It’s like an open wound with having a stinging poke Oppression is alive and attempting to do well Yet the world has a message in tell ‘OPPRESS AND OVERCOME, ITS ABOUT NO MOVEMENT AND BEING NUMB. IT TAKES MULTITUDES IN SUPPLYING THE STRENGTH, BUT ALL MUST GO THE MILES NO MATTER WHAT THE LENGTH” Survival is how you chose to live Its not a verb but is subjective The voice must always be objective Oppression cannot continue in terms in having its way The sunrise has risen and it’s a tomorrow being a new day These are the times to move forward and be strong It’s a matter of all personalities of creeds in knowing how to get along So shake whatever chains you feel you have on Stand up and be counted where you belong Don’t let any form of oppression hold you back You have grasped the concept of understanding in the theory of thinking sharp being the detailed tack Just give oppression one big smack Listen America it’s the various cultures that stack Oppression stand back as you have been defeated being a pack.
0
Jan 23, 2016
Jan 23, 2016 at 5:18 PM UTC
OPPRESSION
A tug of war It is the past experience and what was saw and felt A word in keeping a person in line A restriction of one’s thoughts and actions A procedure in holding one back ******* being a form beyond one’s accord Thank God there is a Lord There is a chance to survive More than a thought being a strive I dream but all I see is a nightmare I see effort, but when will there be preserver? Its like a road block with detour A method of turn back I feel as if I am trapped in bonds Maybe I am still sleep and need to wake up from my yond Perhaps it’s nothing more than a dream It’s my thinking I am in a movie stream But its truly tough being rough A different slavery oppression of the past with a theory of the present A overseer continuing in present oppression A silenced voice having no expression The downward bound with no mountain reach It’s time for a rebellion approach Oppression is real and not a joke It’s like an open wound with having a stinging poke Oppression is alive and attempting to do well Yet the world has a message in tell ‘OPPRESS AND OVERCOME, ITS ABOUT NO MOVEMENT AND BEING NUMB. IT TAKES MULTITUDES IN SUPPLYING THE STRENGTH, BUT ALL MUST GO THE MILES NO MATTER WHAT THE LENGTH” Survival is how you chose to live Its not a verb but is subjective The voice must always be objective Oppression cannot continue in terms in having its way The sunrise has risen and it’s a tomorrow being a new day These are the times to move forward and be strong It’s a matter of all personalities of creeds in knowing how to get along So shake whatever chains you feel you have on Stand up and be counted where you belong Don’t let any form of oppression hold you back You have grasped the concept of understanding in the theory of thinking sharp being the detailed tack Just give oppression one big smack Listen America it’s the various cultures that stack Oppression stand back as you have been defeated being a pack.
Continue reading...
42
Today you will see a sight very rare. hypocrisy will come in bridal wear. Will be removed all clothes of creeds. Roaming naked will be seen deeds. Cats will show their vegetarian teeth; And rats will witness standing high on feet. Tons of civilized men on streets you'll see; And in their trousers many will *** Today you will see a sight very rare. Hypocrisy will come in bridal wear.
0
Dec 14, 2014
Dec 14, 2014 at 7:53 AM UTC
Today
Welcome to AMERICA The sweet land of DREAMS... The only comparison I see... In either, nothing ever is as it seems It's the "Freedoms and Liberties" That attracts people from all different places "Equal Opportunity" is what our country sells And for all creeds and races A Melting *** Yes With this I absolutely agree But I certainly wouldn't call it "The Land Of The Free" REALLY? You've got to be kidding me There may be no shackles No slavery here But we're all puppets to government And the laws they declare Illusions of Liberty, Justice for all Distract it's evil soaked core It's slowly destroying our existence Until nothing left is pure And as much as I hate it It really doesn't matter that I see It remains out of my control They've still made a puppet out of me Pulling the strings on my arms I'm forced to obey And this will probably continue Despite anything I say But since I HAVE to say it anyway I've altered this strategy a bit I'll direct my attention toward "The People" And encourage them to fight it We may be too weak all alone But if we all stood up as one We could start the war to fight against What this nation has become If we all stood together To declare that we'll fight if we must To expose the truth and corruption In this sweet land of the unjust TO BE CONTINUED....
0
Mar 14, 2013
Mar 14, 2013 at 5:07 PM UTC
The Government (Part 1)
Who is the world to define mine right or wrong? I am the one who decides it on my own The world a crazy place, people so weird Finding faults everywhere, while hiding in their beard When you stand for the right, They will advocate the wrong Justifying the same With million excuses in their thong Nirbhaya ***** they say girl was characterless Skirts, shorts, boyfriend, night shows - shameless And inchoate, rightly arousing men to **** One in coma now a four year old gang ***** Society mum when humanity disgraced??? Where are the people of so called decent family? Who judge n criticize from hair to lamellae If smoking kills, why is it not banned?? Beef eaters killed, man eaters praised on the land Alcohol, marijuana bad for health While more people die from terrorist attacks Crores are spent to maintain a terrorist To a soldier dying for the country, not even lakhs A rich is a witch flaunting their gold A poor a leech for things they cannot afford? Without external beauty a person is a waste? Your pennyless pocket how shall I grade? Other’s loss is a righteous act of God? Yours is a tragedy, unfortunate loss??? And then you have religion & morals To justify your notions Right or wrong, judgement filled oceans I am a free spirit, Born not to please your beliefs Enough of hypocrite world I see Killing and dividing on castes and creeds.                  © Dr. PRERNA SINGLA, 13 Oct. 2015
0
Oct 19, 2015
Oct 19, 2015 at 5:00 PM UTC
STANDARDS OF RIGHT & WRONG
All i know is the ghetto And scandalous tricks In stilettos ya know Jealousy follows that the Black society creeds N i bleed Through pressure and pain Since i took the throne I embraced the reign Heir of my past pioneers Listen clear J Hendrix dropped a tear Out the sky catch the purple haze Buzz contact So all you haters get off my bozack My folks dont know how to act Quick to react Bad temper with the barrel of a gat Facin' death Heartbeatin' faster than humming bird Yup i seen a man die So **** what you heard This is for homies thugs drugs dealer Murderers to serial killers Representin' real hits Penetrate the heart of the beast WASHINGTON aint never been fair So if you see us mobbin' yo hood We dont care But this is for my homies I got a tear stained letter From my one of my homies homies Who got murdered by a 9 baretta Cuz he came up short on the cheddar Instead cuttin' em slack He wanted his life back But aint no reasonin' with a gat Pointed at ya pate Seen death servin' on his plate Two shots execution style The killer smiled he knew it was foul But thats the way it is Things will never change It makes my skin mange Wish i could rearrange The game But fools rather remain the same Wither it be pistols to glocks to shot guns There's always a soul on the run I bet i can dance underwater And not get wet So go ahead and send ya death threats Cold covert mission is eyeing me Keep my middle finger to society quietly Riotin' the scene Takin' enemies along with me If ya know what i mean?? But this is for my homies
0
Aug 6, 2015
Aug 6, 2015 at 11:13 PM UTC
Homies & Thugs
All i know is the ghetto And scandalous tricks In stilettos ya know Jealousy follows that the Black society creeds N i bleed Through pressure and pain Since i took the throne I embraced the reign Heir of my past pioneers Listen clear J Hendrix dropped a tear Out the sky catch the purple haze Buzz contact So all you haters get off my bozack My folks dont know how to act Quick to react Bad temper with the barrel of a gat Facin' death Heartbeatin' faster than humming bird Yup i seen a man die So **** what you heard This is for homies thugs drugs dealer Murderers to serial killers Representin' real hits Penetrate the heart of the beast WASHINGTON aint never been fair So if you see us mobbin' yo hood We dont care But this is for my homies I got a tear stained letter From my one of my homies homies Who got murdered by a 9 baretta Cuz he came up short on the cheddar Instead cuttin' em slack He wanted his life back But aint no reasonin' with a gat Pointed at ya pate Seen death servin' on his plate Two shots execution style The killer smiled he knew it was foul But thats the way it is Things will never change It makes my skin mange Wish i could rearrange The game But fools rather remain the same Wither it be pistols to glocks to shot guns There's always a soul on the run I bet i can dance underwater And not get wet So go ahead and send ya death threats Cold covert mission is eyeing me Keep my middle finger to society quietly Riotin' the scene Takin' enemies along with me If ya know what i mean?? But this is for my homies
Continue reading...
58
Tho' truths in manhood darkly join, Deep-seated in our mystic frame, We yield all blessing to the name Of Him that made them current coin; For Wisdom dealt with mortal powers, Where truth in closest words shall fail, When truth embodied in a tale Shall enter in at lowly doors. And so the Word had breath, and wrought With human hands the creed of creeds In loveliness of perfect deeds, More strong than all poetic thought; Which he may read that binds the sheaf, Or builds the house, or digs the grave, And those wild eyes that watch the wave In roarings round the coral reef.
0
2.7k
In Memoriam A. H. H. OBIIT MDCCCXXXIII: Part 036
When everything was fine And the notion of sin had vanished And the earth was ready In universal peace To consume and rejoice Without creeds and utopias, I, for unknown reasons, Surrounded by the books Of prophets and theologians, Of philosophers, poets, Searched for an answer, Scowling, grimacing, Waking up at night, muttering at dawn. What oppressed me so much Was a bit shameful. Talking of it aloud Would show neither tact nor prudence. It might even seem an outrage Against the health of mankind. Alas, my memory Does not want to leave me And in it, live beings Each with its own pain, Each with its own dying, Its own trepidation. Why then innocence On paradisal beaches, An impeccable sky Over the church of hygiene? Is it because that Was long ago? To a saintly man --So goes an Arab tale-- God said somewhat maliciously: "Had I revealed to people How great a sinner you are, They could not praise you." "And I," answered the pious one, "Had I unveiled to them How merciful you are, They would not care for you." To whom should I turn With that affair so dark Of pain and also guilt In the structure of the world, If either here below Or over there on high No power can abolish The cause and the effect? Don't think, don't remember The death on the cross, Though everyday He dies, The only one, all-loving, Who without any need Consented and allowed To exist all that is, Including nails of torture. Totally enigmatic. Impossibly intricate. Better to stop speech here. This language is not for people. Blessed be jubilation. Vintages and harvests. Even if not everyone Is granted serenity.
0
2.6k
A Poem For the End of the Century
When everything was fine And the notion of sin had vanished And the earth was ready In universal peace To consume and rejoice Without creeds and utopias, I, for unknown reasons, Surrounded by the books Of prophets and theologians, Of philosophers, poets, Searched for an answer, Scowling, grimacing, Waking up at night, muttering at dawn. What oppressed me so much Was a bit shameful. Talking of it aloud Would show neither tact nor prudence. It might even seem an outrage Against the health of mankind. Alas, my memory Does not want to leave me And in it, live beings Each with its own pain, Each with its own dying, Its own trepidation. Why then innocence On paradisal beaches, An impeccable sky Over the church of hygiene? Is it because that Was long ago? To a saintly man --So goes an Arab tale-- God said somewhat maliciously: "Had I revealed to people How great a sinner you are, They could not praise you." "And I," answered the pious one, "Had I unveiled to them How merciful you are, They would not care for you." To whom should I turn With that affair so dark Of pain and also guilt In the structure of the world, If either here below Or over there on high No power can abolish The cause and the effect? Don't think, don't remember The death on the cross, Though everyday He dies, The only one, all-loving, Who without any need Consented and allowed To exist all that is, Including nails of torture. Totally enigmatic. Impossibly intricate. Better to stop speech here. This language is not for people. Blessed be jubilation. Vintages and harvests. Even if not everyone Is granted serenity.
Continue reading...
65
"No man loves God who hates his kind; Who tramples on his Brother's heart and soul. Who seeks to shackle, cloud or fog the mind By fears of Hell has not perceived our goal. God-sent are all religions blest; And Christ; the Way, the Truth and Life To give the heavy-laden rest And peace from Sorrow, Sin and Strife. At His request the Universal Spirit came To all the churches; not to one alone; On Pentecostal morn a tongue of flame Round each apostle as a halo shone. Since then, as vultures ravenous with greed, We oft have battled for an empty name And sought by dogma, edict, creed, To send each other to the flame. Is Christ then divided? Was Cephas or Paul Nailed to the Cross to die ? If not: Then why these divisions at all? Christ's love doth enfold you and I. His pure sweet love is not confined By creeds which segregate and raise a wall. His love enfolds, embraces Humankind; No matter what ourselves or him we call. Then why not take Him at His word? Why hold to creeds which tear apart ? But one thing matters be it heard, That brother-love fill every heart. There is but one thing that the world has need to know; There is but one balm for all our human woe; There is but one way that leads to heaven above; That way is human sympathy and love." MAX HEINDAL •||~•¥•~^\\:://^~•¥•~||•
0
Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 3:21 PM UTC
Creed of Christ by Max Heindel
*"As the same fire assumes different shapes When it consumes objects differing in shape, So does the one Self take the shape Of every creature in whom he is present."* (Katha Upanishad II.2.9) *"As the rivers flowing east and west Merge in the sea and become one with it, Forgetting they were separate rivers, So do all creatures lose their separateness When they merge at last into pure Being. There is nothing that does not come from him. Of everything he is the inmost Self. He is the truth; he is the Self supreme. You are that Shvetaketu, you are that."* (Chandogya Upanishad IV.10.1-3) *I don't understand, Why, in this land,* Where these sacred scriptures were written, Were so many religions born-- *I don't understand, How, in this land,* Were differences encouraged, When the backbone of all life Always was recognized as liberation-- The acknowledgement Of all different religions, castes, creeds, Really broke the deal you know... Imagine, if all the cultures were mixed Instead of being separated, unconnected, segregated; And churned into a liberal philosophy The Philosophy of Liberation (read: Moksha) We'd have prevented so many wars, All fought under the cloak of differences and disparities; We could have averted So much bloodshed, So many innocent screams-- And these shudders down your spine right now? They would be the product of fiction; Not the echoes of cruel reality...
0
Aug 6, 2014
Aug 6, 2014 at 2:58 AM UTC
Moksha: Liberation
With sensuous cords suspended between heaven and earth, A nylon hammock generously supports all, races, colors and creeds. Guilty pleasures are carefully balanced during a rendezvous of stolen moments and secret escapes. Ideas are born in this cocooning nexus, and work is accomplished from a place of succor and rest. A gentle swaying calms the mind and brings life into balance once more.
0
Aug 20, 2010
Aug 20, 2010 at 12:05 PM UTC
The Hammock
What’s going on at Capitol Hill The House and Senate have Bills to fulfill GOP and Democrats must connect with will Voting Rights is nothing that should be passed over The Constitution was a discovery giving us that right The American People and Capitol Hill shouldn’t take it light The late Congressmen John Lewis was a true fighter on Capitol Hill for Voting Rights He was the voice that had might We can’t go backwards into time Yet we can reflect Voting Rights can’t be a reject Voting Rights Bill gives the American People assurance having an effect We can’t let the GOP turn America into a Dictatorship We are not Russia nor China in Communism The Constitution clearly states, ‘WE THE PEOPLE” That identifies all people of creeds Capitol Hill must think with understanding Voting Rights Bills must be solid in sustaining Tomorrow could very well be a finale of permanent sundown Suppression having the shine Capitol Hill must show genuine This makes passing Voting Rights so important House and Senate, “I ask that you do what is right” Sign Bills in plain sight Unite with no plight The American People are depending on you PURSUIE
0
Jan 17, 2022
Jan 17, 2022 at 3:53 PM UTC
WHAT’S GOING ON AT CAPITOL HILL?
America, the beautiful place full of obesity and intolerance, where there’s a McDonald’s on every corner, but a homeless veteran on every corner too. The place where old white men are making choices about women’s reproductive rights, refugees are turned away from a place founded by immigrants, And racism is alive and well. America the Beautiful doesn’t exist any more, It’s America the polluted, America the Land of Sexism, America that would disappoint our forefathers. America was founded by people in search of freedom, but yet our government is trying to take our freedoms away, when our President is in favor of conversion therapy that makes LGBTQ+ people 8 times more likely to commit suicide, it’s obvious that he doesn’t actually care about us. America the money hungry country, Where I can’t afford the EpiPen I need to survive, And the top 1% says that raising the minimum wage is us being selfish. America the Misogynist, Because our country is directly affected by who we choose to represent it. And I do not want to be “grabbed by the ***** I don’t want a ****** to be in charge when my ****** is still out living free on the streets.   We are America the sexist because when women march for their right’s it’s seen as a whine, not a cry for help. America the bigot, Where people are seen more as their melanin pigment, or their religion, and less as a person. Where “don’t shoot” is more of a suggestion than a plea., Where I’m worried about my friends every single day. America the Beautiful doesn’t exist any more. It was made beautiful by the array of faces all different creeds, colors, and religions. Now America is the United States of Hate.
0
Apr 4, 2017
Apr 4, 2017 at 10:14 AM UTC
America
America, the beautiful place full of obesity and intolerance, where there’s a McDonald’s on every corner, but a homeless veteran on every corner too. The place where old white men are making choices about women’s reproductive rights, refugees are turned away from a place founded by immigrants, And racism is alive and well. America the Beautiful doesn’t exist any more, It’s America the polluted, America the Land of Sexism, America that would disappoint our forefathers. America was founded by people in search of freedom, but yet our government is trying to take our freedoms away, when our President is in favor of conversion therapy that makes LGBTQ+ people 8 times more likely to commit suicide, it’s obvious that he doesn’t actually care about us. America the money hungry country, Where I can’t afford the EpiPen I need to survive, And the top 1% says that raising the minimum wage is us being selfish. America the Misogynist, Because our country is directly affected by who we choose to represent it. And I do not want to be “grabbed by the ***** I don’t want a ****** to be in charge when my ****** is still out living free on the streets.   We are America the sexist because when women march for their right’s it’s seen as a whine, not a cry for help. America the bigot, Where people are seen more as their melanin pigment, or their religion, and less as a person. Where “don’t shoot” is more of a suggestion than a plea., Where I’m worried about my friends every single day. America the Beautiful doesn’t exist any more. It was made beautiful by the array of faces all different creeds, colors, and religions. Now America is the United States of Hate.
Continue reading...
27
Stoplight Lynching, Drive-by Reaping, Soul snatching police officers, Throat tearing teacher’s with a theme Violence in the genes, Scheming while masquerading what you are to be, Playing charades because social acceptance is in, Evolving from barbarism to greed, Juxtaposed Imposter, Judicially Jaded, Think you can wield a blade, When congressional dribble will bleed you away, Martyr Mishaps, Minds without maps and easy to catch, A congregation in need creeds, Stoplight sinning, Drive-by finishing, Soul savoring deities, Throat slicing teachings, Ignorance is a conquering king, All encompassing, All controlling, Ignorance is a conquering thief, compromising our mental capacities for the sake of Almighty Themes.
0
Apr 4, 2013
Apr 4, 2013 at 3:15 PM UTC
Vex
I sit here on the corner. That park bench, Next to the tall buildings It smells of smoke Overworked waitresses and workers sit where I sit day in and day out Wonder when things are going to get better Sit down with there sorrows Chain smokers who just want it to be over I breathe it in because I am lost as well I sit where the cars rush past, and don't stop for anyone Where the sounds of people and cars clash on sidewalks and in the air The bench where no one wants to sit, but has to in times of desperation lost hope and sadness Here I sit. On the streets, and on the bench Where a novel could have been written Where that man passed out drunk Where people of all races and creeds have sat and waited for an everlasting peace in their lives Something that never came Amongst trench coats and stained college sweatshirts are those who have sat here The bench and the street more like it It does not discriminate Everyone of every class, race, gender, religion shares the bench Not a single word can describe the hate Sadness and lonliness That has occurred on that bench And yet here I sit I breathe it in
0
Mar 6, 2013
Mar 6, 2013 at 12:13 AM UTC
Benches
i stand with my sisters -- hijab-wearing, undocumented black, brown, beautiful, brilliant; women who love women; women who have the right to answer to their names, instead of a “sugar” or “honey” or “baby” yelled by a stranger on a street corner; terrific trans women; women, who must have the right to decide what should happen to their own bodies i stand with my brothers -- men who love men and men who are afraid to say that they do; Muslim men, Latino men, feminist men, trans men; and those who are neither men or women, non-binary friends of all shapes and sizes and colors and creeds; every person who has never felt like they belonged and i stand with my people -- the people of America. we know deep in our hearts that hate is not the answer; and so we march on and fight on and force our voices out into the universe and it is not futile, it is not for nothing, it will never be for nothing. for those who believe to love is the most important thing we'll ever do: i stand with you.
0
Nov 16, 2016
Nov 16, 2016 at 5:52 PM UTC
i stand
first musical memory playing Mary Poppins over and over on my portable suitcase phonograph not convinced that a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down went over to my friends house to play Barbies heard B-B-B-Bennie and the Jets on her record player began my life long love of rock music grew up attending a Southern Baptist church if my faith continues to evolve in and out of specific creeds and dogmatic beliefs right arm will never fail to involuntarily rise towards the Heavens whenever i hear How Great Thou Art being sung parents were in their late 30's by the time i was born was exposed to big band music show tunes mom's favorite French operatic singer Edith Piaf Riverview Elementary in music class taught how to do The Hustle and The Bus Stop to disco records got to bring in on Fridays love of guys with long hair blame on the big hair bands the 80's the 90's such a kinship to the dark depressing sounds of grunge believed Scott Weiland Kurt Cobain and Jerry Cantrell plagiarized my thoughts mad or need to clean my house the 2 often go hand in hand heavy/nu metal blaring at maximum volume Currently am at a crossroads need of direction helps me to undergo the deep soul searching inecessary major life changes are required give myself vehicular therapy, driving around Wilson Lake symphonic classical sounds from the radio surprisingly maybe not blaring maximum volume brainstorming my options to the music overheard ppl say they wished that their life came with a soundtrack Mine does.
0
May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 6:07 AM UTC
Soundtrack
first musical memory playing Mary Poppins over and over on my portable suitcase phonograph not convinced that a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down went over to my friends house to play Barbies heard B-B-B-Bennie and the Jets on her record player began my life long love of rock music grew up attending a Southern Baptist church if my faith continues to evolve in and out of specific creeds and dogmatic beliefs right arm will never fail to involuntarily rise towards the Heavens whenever i hear How Great Thou Art being sung parents were in their late 30's by the time i was born was exposed to big band music show tunes mom's favorite French operatic singer Edith Piaf Riverview Elementary in music class taught how to do The Hustle and The Bus Stop to disco records got to bring in on Fridays love of guys with long hair blame on the big hair bands the 80's the 90's such a kinship to the dark depressing sounds of grunge believed Scott Weiland Kurt Cobain and Jerry Cantrell plagiarized my thoughts mad or need to clean my house the 2 often go hand in hand heavy/nu metal blaring at maximum volume Currently am at a crossroads need of direction helps me to undergo the deep soul searching inecessary major life changes are required give myself vehicular therapy, driving around Wilson Lake symphonic classical sounds from the radio surprisingly maybe not blaring maximum volume brainstorming my options to the music overheard ppl say they wished that their life came with a soundtrack Mine does.
Continue reading...
73
I huddled into my collars and looked to the sky, The day was overcast with yesterday’s lies, The wind ripped through the streets and sang pain in my ears, The clouds above heavily pregnant with tears, On such a dark and cold day... My eyes beheld a sight full of radiating rays. Striding down the street in a landscape very urban was a youth dressed in a gentle green turban, His white salwar and kameez caressed by the air, His fresh face beaming shining and clear, And upon his lips and around his chin curled a beard neatly combed and oiled from top to rim. He walked with the confidence of a vibrant caliph, I did for a moment in my mind stop and marvel at his belief, This young man was such a contrast to the dark day, He displayed brilliance and integrity and trod upon truth’s way, He seemed one who was at ease with God and his deeds, What a wonderful ambassador for all races and creeds. As we two passed I offered up a greeting, “Asalaam Alaikum”. His eyebrows rippled and coiled like twin cobras lacking intelligence, He replied to me with the surly silence of arrogance, He ignored my universal humanity, He ignored my peaceful charity, He ignored my friendship and camaraderie, He ignored God’s solemn word so rich and full of love’s clarity... This young man...Who was he? What did he think himself to be? He was a stranger to me and a stranger to himself. Could he not see? He was a stranger even unto God Almighty Himself, This self-assured man condemned his soul and lost touch with life itself. ©Rangzeb Hussain
0
Feb 11, 2011
Feb 11, 2011 at 1:57 PM UTC
A Greeting from the Birth of Time
I huddled into my collars and looked to the sky, The day was overcast with yesterday’s lies, The wind ripped through the streets and sang pain in my ears, The clouds above heavily pregnant with tears, On such a dark and cold day... My eyes beheld a sight full of radiating rays. Striding down the street in a landscape very urban was a youth dressed in a gentle green turban, His white salwar and kameez caressed by the air, His fresh face beaming shining and clear, And upon his lips and around his chin curled a beard neatly combed and oiled from top to rim. He walked with the confidence of a vibrant caliph, I did for a moment in my mind stop and marvel at his belief, This young man was such a contrast to the dark day, He displayed brilliance and integrity and trod upon truth’s way, He seemed one who was at ease with God and his deeds, What a wonderful ambassador for all races and creeds. As we two passed I offered up a greeting, “Asalaam Alaikum”. His eyebrows rippled and coiled like twin cobras lacking intelligence, He replied to me with the surly silence of arrogance, He ignored my universal humanity, He ignored my peaceful charity, He ignored my friendship and camaraderie, He ignored God’s solemn word so rich and full of love’s clarity... This young man...Who was he? What did he think himself to be? He was a stranger to me and a stranger to himself. Could he not see? He was a stranger even unto God Almighty Himself, This self-assured man condemned his soul and lost touch with life itself. ©Rangzeb Hussain
Continue reading...
33
All of my life has been a search For things I could not see For matters founding in my heart For things that I could be I sold my home and life For principiality But everything was worth the price And Im remorselessly Yet I wonder now and then Whenever I am asked again What I have answered once Though I walked freely down that path And there is no regret and yet I wonder what I felt inside What caused my mind to set This way along the past What craving caused my vast Amount of ruthlessness I lost my time, with no remorse, And all of my appeal The breaking clocks may have been worse But still, I could'nt feel Nor understand what Ive been searching for And when I carried on my way I lost myself in forlorn days Where I found something new I never had been searching for And yet I felt that something grew Inside of me That let me fear The things about to come For I got lost, found by someone, Something that changed my mind I didnt want to lose that fast Nor leave it all behind And for the first time I did fight I changed the clockwork of my mind I chose a place, a time a side And wonder about all my life About decisions, thoughts and creeds I owned in future pasts For any deed I would regret And yet I wonder What have happened to my heart
0
Sep 15, 2019
Sep 15, 2019 at 11:17 AM UTC
No Regrets
These Nights with lights, Lightened from cigarette filled clouds to rainstorms. We are drowning our Inhibition to exhibitions, of a shallow madness. Within a matter of clearance Of transverse sunrays: We call this morning A day past, A night ruled with dreams. Flooded with traffic afflicted Souls searching beneath empty vessels of libations Only to unearth realizations from lost sensations. Vagabonds patrolling streets apparently policing their worries, from failed inquiries of maternally adopted creeds. Divided vision escalated arrhythmic palpitation Deviation from a gradual calm away from calamity Expel, Exhort-Excise, the deep-veil A rising dawn, polluted skies reflected in these eyes, I stare at this street lamp, flickering at-us-all.
0
Jan 23, 2010
Jan 23, 2010 at 10:48 AM UTC
full moon
I'm an image of actions and floral words I could be a poem in another world They hymn when someone strums the chords But I am no image of someone in the history I'm a poem more likely not to rhyme A music unlikely for the ears I'm the three lines on the expected four-line-poem The disappointment to the words at the end A sound you will not recognize I'm an art made of flaws Made in time of burn and fire Maybe to dust I came, to dust I'll belong A hypocrite of my own My thoughts betray me more than my words A sinner who creeds at night, whole but shattered But I am graced, making me beautifully flawed The novel that may leave you warm yet hanging Like how I am built with good intentions and wonders
0
Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 5:02 AM UTC
Beautifully Flawed