"keller" poems
**How can you be truly tough
In this painful world?
How can you stand firm
When the spears of agony are hurled?
Most people in the proud US of A
Don't have a clue of the
price they have to pay.
Western people do not know
What hardship really is.
So gratitude is lacking...
It is this...
Gratitude is having a ***
That doesn't leak,
To walk miles for diseased
Water from a creek.
Gratitude in thanking God
For the dry wood
To cook the rice or millet
For your food.
Gratitude is finding
A pair of shoes
In a garbage heap
That you can use.
Gratitude is finding
Pesos in your hand
When you beg the streets
In a poor land.
Gratitude is escaping
Vicious thugs
Who deal in human
Trafficking and drugs.
Gratitude is Hellen Keller
With no hope
Finding Annie Sullivan
To cope.
Gratitude is having NOTHING
And in pain
On one's deathbed, but yet
The fact remains
They are redeemed
And they have Lord Jesus' grace
So they know that they
Will look in his sweet face.
Being tough is seeing life
As is and still not breaking
Being brave and looking
Not forsaking
Being tough is a
Mental attitude.
Loving God and thanking Him
It's GRATITUDE.**
SoulSurvivor
Catherine Jarvis
(C) September 28, 2014
Sep 28, 2014
Sep 28, 2014 at 5:15 PM UTC
On the 15th of May
In the French Laund-er-y
There was a small man,
The Chef De Partie
He was mixing and stirring
And stirring his sauce,
But his sauce wouldn’t thicken
He was at a loss
So he needed to think
and ponder awhile
Until on his face
Was a bright white smile.
“I have it!” He said.
“I know what to do
All that I need
Is a nice thick roux.”
No reductions or tomatoes
Or even puree
He needed the roux
It was the only way
So what he did next
was truly “the ****
He melted some butter
And dumped flour in it.
This mixture was gloppy
And looked like wet sand
The roux was ‘a cooking
But looked awfully bland
Morton must think
How to flavor this glob
Chef Tomas Keller said
“Morton its your job”
He thought and he thought
“Oh what can I do?
Bechamel or Veloute?
What to do with this roux.”
“Veloute I think
Sounds good for today.
I’ll make some of that.
Chef might exclaim, “yay!”
So he added some stock
Of Gertrude McFuzz
It was the best bird
It certainly was
Fond Blanc De McFuzz
Was clear and not milky
Morton’s Veloute
Ought to be silky
He cooked it awhile
Maybe for one half an hour
And when it began to bubble
The roux showed its power.
It thickened and coated
The back of a spoon
This stuff’s almost ready
It should be done soon
He strained it
removing the floury bits
It needed to be clean
No clumpys or grits
It was almost over
It was just about ready
It still needed some tweaking
“Can’t we eat it already?!”
“No” said chef Teller
as he took a lick
Was it good? Was it bad?
Was the sauce too thick
“You did a great job!
Trust me, you did.”
Said Teller to Morton
“You did good kid”
“One thing I will say
That you forgot to put in
It’s the most vital ingredient
In the entire kitchen”
“Its something that most chefs
Don’t use a lot of
It comes from within
The spice of true love”
Morton thought a bit
Like he often does
And then he said
“Chef! That’s what it was”
“It didn’t taste right
It was missing its pop
Its pep in its step
Its fizzle. Its hop”
He learned something there
From Chef Thomas Teller
Food needs more love
It needs to be stellar
After all that
And in the end
Morton threw it away
And started again.
Mar 8, 2013
Mar 8, 2013 at 3:40 PM UTC
"Life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all"
- Helen Keller
May mga taong tinutugis na parang mga hayop, may mga hayop na nagpapanggap na tao. Mga halimaw na nagaanyong pangkaraniwan. Ang mundo ay isang malaking gubat na punong-puno ng mga ganid sa laman, uhaw sa kapangyarihan at mga alipin na lumuluhod sa kinang ng salapi. Ang lupa ay hindi inilaan para sa mga mababait na tao, ito ay para sa mga ulol, imbi at mga tarantado. Ang mga baliw, sadista at mga putang-ina ang itinakdang maghari. Sa bawat yugto ng kasaysayan ay laging may pag-aaklas, ito na ang panahon nang pag-aalsa. Buksan ang isipan at gisingin ang natutulog na damdamin. Wakasan ang pang-aapi at pabagsakin ang nang-aapi. Sabi nga ni **** Abay "magkakaroon ng rebolusyon". Ngayon ang panahon nang pagbabangon, simulan natin sa ating sarili. Tularan natin ang mga bayani nang ang bayang nakalubog ay maka-ahon. Simulan natin sa tula upang gisingin si Juan sa malalim n'yang pagkakahimbing.
Nov 13, 2017
Nov 13, 2017 at 9:23 PM UTC
Under the tree of the university
A shadow was gruesomely cast.
The branches made too much shade
And there grew no grass.
No one would lie under its wood
Down beside its trunk;
It wasn't essential, there was no potential,
Claimed the revered monk
But late at night you'll find him lying in the dirt
Wearing a Paisley Poplin Shirt
The click of the gears define his years,
A cycle on a chain
A cloud of sand thrown by his own hand
Hones forth his pain
He blows seeds of dandelion weeds
****** a ****** field
And he pretends that he intends
To reap this horrible yield
Because unintentionally he subconsciously convert
To one who wears a Paisley Poplin Shirt
Covered in rust, a blade he adjusts,
His mind remains unwrung
The words to speak were too **** bleak
So he cuts off his tongue
He'll be finished when he's diminished
These humanly sights
If there's no vision at the end of his mission
He'll gouge out his eyes
And Helen Keller takes one of her old ragged skirts
And fashions him a Paisley Poplin Shirt
Why must we be obsessed
With the unseen
When we know we cannot
Make something out of nothing
And to those of you who think that you cannot be hurt
Stones go thru a Paisley Poplin Shirt
Aug 23, 2017
Aug 23, 2017 at 2:49 AM UTC
Mark Twain to Helen Keller
“Oh, dear me, how unspeakably funny and owlishly idiotic and grotesque was that “plagiarism” farce! As if there was much of anything in any human utterance, oral or written, except plagiarism! The kernel, the soul—let us go farther and say the substance, the bulk, the actual and valuable material of all human utterances in plagiarism.
For substantially all ideas are second hand, consciously or unconsciously drawn from a million outside sources and daily use by the garnerer with a pride and satisfaction born of the superstition that he originated them; whereas there is not a rag of originality about them any where except the little discoloration they get from his mental and moral calibre and his temperament, which is revealed in characteristics of phrasing.”
Mark Twain
Dec 1, 2021
Dec 1, 2021 at 3:39 PM UTC
I want to take better advice
Latest being love like you've never been hurt
Dance like nobody's watching
Keller knows a thing or two
I found part of myself within those Break Science
Lights
Pigeons creating a helix of electricity
Within the shallow depths of my fingertips
Thankfully I can pull it closer
Feel it's lazer beam muscle spasm ******
Straight through to the other side of how I think
How I interact with the pulsing beat pounding within my vasodilated veins
I lost the darkness in your shadows
I found the light in mine
We raged that night until our bodies, twisted and wounded like geriatric versions of ourselves
Fell into tired cuddle puddles
Smiling, saturated with festival funk
All thoughts dissolving into psychedelic dreams
Aug 27, 2013
Aug 27, 2013 at 12:48 AM UTC
Your tan won't matter,
nor will leather shoes.
A wink, an eyelash flutter
Eyes that look only through
Her darkness penetrating
your light, but a dream
Inside her silent fountain
you, a trickle touch of stream
Your perfume may entice her
A cleanly shaven caress
But to get down inside her
march through your own mess
To really get down inside her
all you knew stands in your way
**** all your shine and shimmer
the polished opinions thrown away
Even on your knees, she cannot see
Even your serenade, she cannot hear
The only volume she can muster
is the volume of your love or fear.
Stand, sit, lean or cower
Poetry, curses, gold or brown
Dive into her world of power
Leaving ripples without a sound.
Jan 9, 2013
Jan 9, 2013 at 8:07 PM UTC
Close your eyes
Feel with your hands and your feet
Listen with your ears
Speak with your mind and heart
Let the earth surround you
Heroes like Helen Keller
Miracles in our midst
Feeling with mind, body and spirit
Everyday of life is precious
Melt the anger away
Accept what is beautiful
Live the gift of life everyday
Oct 21, 2010
Oct 21, 2010 at 9:14 AM UTC
*"The Gospel says you are more sinful and flawed than you ever dared believe, but more accepted and loved than you ever dared hope."
Timothy Keller*
"A simple mind"
Or some would say
To believe God
The Gospel way.
To think of Christ's
Redeeming blood
As "fairy tale"?
Or healing flood?
I knew it not
While in my youth
Oh! How I wish
I'd known the TRUTH!
I was in darkness,
I'll attest,
My father is
An atheist.
But I was rescued!
I received!
I heard the Gospel
And BELIEVED!
I know there's naught
That can be said
To those who God
Has left for dead.
How deep depraved
And sure of death
Are those who sin
Unto last breath
How blessed are those
Who seek His face
For tho they've sinned
They're saved by Grace.
He freely held
His hand to give
He freely died
That YOU might LIVE.
That you receive
Is what I pray,
Then you will know
The Gospel Way.
SøułSurvivør
(C) 9/7/2017
Sep 7, 2017
Sep 7, 2017 at 9:05 AM UTC
When I was small,
I had the idea that I wanted a fairy tale love story
with a brave prince to save me,
take me in his arms and ask me to be his,
but I don’t want that anymore.
I want the imperfections,
the awkwardness.
I don’t want you to be my prince charming.
I want you as you are.
I want my awkward white boy from the Midwest
who likes video games, sports, and sings like an angel.
So sing to me,
because if eyes are the windows to the soul
then your voice is a door flung wide open.
And when I thought all my doors where closed
you invited me in for Chick Fil A and lemonade.
It just wasn’t going through my thick head.
You were dropping hints harder than boulders
and it took me awhile,
but I finally cracked on a Pokémon poem,
which you didn’t write,
but the words were just as sweet as ones of your own.
I was oblivious to your advances,
but they say love is blind.
So I want to be lost
like Helen Keller in an Ikea.
And while I am there,
I will pick out a bookshelf for him to build
and we will share stories by the glow of the fire.
The essence of your presence is like smoke
and as fleeting as a dream on the precipice of sleep.
You are like the ‘Q’ words in Scrabble.
You don’t come around often,
but when you do, it’s pretty rewarding.
I wanted to learn every combination of your letters,
but I was careful of my spelling
because I knew your grammatical ways.
Show me chivalry is not dead.
Prove the world wrong, stare it in the face,
turn the other way and take me in your arms.
Instead of a superman in tights,
you will be my savior in gym shorts
because that is much more real
than a dragon slaying demigod.
Aug 18, 2013
Aug 18, 2013 at 12:10 AM UTC
.
these are things that make me Sad:..
imagining how sad that Powder must be...
...after Labor day.
imagining how sad rabecca Black must be...
...on Wednesday.
imagining how sad quasiModo would be...
...in Gattaca.
imagining how sad rosie oDonnel would be...
...in Ethiopia.
imagining how sad benjamin Button woulda been..
...in Neverland.
imagining how sad sleeping Beauty would be...
...finally waking Up........n seeing meDusa.
imagining how scared free ***** must be...
...of sunshine aQuarium.
imagining how scared jimmy Neutron would be...
...in sleepy Hollow.
imagining how scared that Pingping musta been...
...of Sultan.
imagining how scared that Avatars woulda been...
...of ******
imagining how scared that Petrified wood would be...
...of paul Bunyan. (Dumb xD)
imagining how scared
six jodie Fosters would be
in a Panic room with seven Hannibals.
imaging how bad trig Palin would be...
...at Trigonometry. (too Much..)
imagining how bad epiLeptic children are...
...at Laser tag.
imagining how bad steven Hawking would be...
...at Roller derby.
imagining how bad that Rainman woulda been...
...at Rain dancing.
imaginging how bad helen Keller woulda been...
...at Karaoke.
imagining how bad desiree Jennings musta been...
...at Hopscotch.
imaginging how effortlessly,
robin willams was Acting...
...in will Hunting.
too Soon?...
...Oh........Sorry.
"Thats okay...
...its not your Fault."
Thanks babe.
.
Sep 13, 2014
Sep 13, 2014 at 7:44 PM UTC
Maya Angelou
Frida Kahlo
Helen Keller
Amelia Earhart
Madame Curie
Mother Teresa
Marilyn Monroe
Meryl Streep
Me.
You?
Mar 9, 2018
Mar 9, 2018 at 2:12 AM UTC
Happy Birthday to a girl who has a heart of gold,
To another girl whos story is untold,
To a girl who has a playful soul,
Who stays positive when things get difficult
A girl who knows who is beautiful
who makes the world more peaceful
a girl who I wouldnt mind to have as my best friend
a heart I wish to help defend
you break her heart, I break your face
this is a girl you cant replace
dont break her heart
if you do you were never her friend from the start
Happy Birthday :)
Nov 11, 2012
Nov 11, 2012 at 9:13 AM UTC
Not all love stories get the 'happily ever after.'
Some leave you breathless
Or crying
A few may have you scratching your head
'Really? All that for what?'
Love between two people can even have all of that combined.
There is a single flame inside every human being on this entire planet.
It flickers inside ourselves, randomly choosing to be on or off throughout our lifetime, only it never brightens--
lacking the spark that increases the radiance of the fire.
When two people have a spark, their souls for a moment connect as an invisible whispering, twirling as a dance of lovers.
There are those that never see it.
Some try to use the flicker as real love.
Yet incompleteness is inevitable!
There is a hole in the soul left by the one your soul danced with, or your fire longs for.
Live as though your fire is lit, and sooner or later it will be
"A candle loses nothing by lighting another candle"-James Keller*
Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 12:42 AM UTC
When the pall of gloom overcasts my mind
And at cross roads bewildered I stand
I tell myself
This shall pass
When my mind is full of fear
And I find no single soul to share
I tell myself
This too shall pass
When darkness invades my abode
And there is not even a ray of light inside
I tell myself
This too shall pass
When my burdens weigh heavier than I can bear
And when no one around seems to care
I tell myself
This too shall pass
When storm clouds gather in the sky
And my tensions rise high
I tell myself
This too shall pass
When the road ahead stretches strenuous
And the distance makes me nervous
I tell myself
This too shall pass
When those I love and trust let me down
And look upon me with scorn and frown
I tell myself
This too shall pass
When misfortunes flow in torrent
And am caught in the eddying current
I tell myself
This too shall pass
When the cycle of seasons keep changing
Life, from sorrows to joy will surely be shifting
Let us wait for the pendulum to have its full swing
And let our hopes heavenward steadily wing!
Love will again fill the air
Doves of peace will coo in pair
The wintry chill will lose its frosty bite
Spring will come on wings like a sprite
‘‘Nevertheless, the hilltop hour
Would not be half so wonderful
Were there no dark valleys to traverse”
Helen Keller’s words resonate in my ears
Jun 7, 2016
Jun 7, 2016 at 7:39 AM UTC
dark and silent
I fought to be awake
it has always been black
it will always be black
my house is big
my parents are beautiful
I think
I like to hide things
I’m lucky because I can’t
hear my mother scolding me
water is my salvation.
Aug 22, 2015
Aug 22, 2015 at 12:54 PM UTC
This note is to you.
The you with swollen eyes,
the you with mascara dripped tears,
the you who has had a bad day,
the you who hasn't slept peacefully for nights,
the you who has lost hope.
I have read about Frida Kahlo and Helen Keller.
I have read the stories of these fierce women.
I don't know them, I've never met them.
But I've known you and met you,
And you are my hero.
Strong and unapologetic.
At the same time, elegant and true.
Don't you let anyone or anything
****** that title away from you.
Sayali
Jun 16, 2016
Jun 16, 2016 at 7:25 AM UTC
Prose, a photo
Poetry, pencil sketch,
in five lines.
We see not with eyes but heart
We hear not with ears but heart
We think not with mind but heart
Helen Keller,
wise beyond sight.
And we feel not with heart but in the guts.
May 13, 2019
May 13, 2019 at 3:30 AM UTC
Lost myself again
in this trivial world
of plain facts and knowledge
Bored of my prospects
aspirations and dreams
"You have potential!"
Yeah, and so did Helen Keller
but I bet she was happier
knowing her limitations
The lost conquest
of the inner self
plagues my mind
making ruins
of my achievements
If you truly are
what you have done
then in truth
you will always be
a shadow of your deeds
I am a man
of what I could of done
a procrastinator
with low self esteem
So walk on,
Men of virtue
walk on,
Men of grace
I grow tired
of your idols
I grow tired
of your ideals.
Aug 7, 2011
Aug 7, 2011 at 10:29 AM UTC
*So clearly i see it now...
the rhythmic beat of your heart
to mine...
blood pulsing through your veins
carrying with it emotions
love, happiness, desire
all from a mere touch of my hand
**
"The best and most beautiful things in the
world cannot be seen or even touched.
They must be felt with the heart. ~Helen Keller""
**
It's the truth though
beauty is merely a visual
imagery playing upon the
simplicities of the human mind
yet when it's whittled down to it
you... are not beautiful
You're the pure embodiment of beauty
everything you are is jubilantly harmonious
desireable...
unattainable...
to anyone who isn't in my position
a position of weakness and trust
where anything they do is determined by you
with the heart set on your happiness...
you've made me want to let
everything i know as true
just fade to grey
and become part of the background...*
..........................................................................
Jul 17, 2010
Jul 17, 2010 at 1:16 PM UTC
The Cosmos is deaf,
mute, and dumb, too.
We humans make up stories
and call them our lives.
When the stories
don't turn out well,
we curse the Cosmos.
Such hubris!
The Cosmos can't hear
our pathetic laments
and wouldn't care
if it could.
It's too busy just
being the Cosmos.
Feb 15, 2017
Feb 15, 2017 at 5:23 AM UTC
The cosmos are deaf,
and mute, too.
We are the beings
who strut about
muttering words
we turn into stories.
We then call these tales
our lives and blame
them on the cosmos.
The cosmos can't hear
our pathetic laments
and wouldn't care
if it could.
It is too busy
just being the cosmos.
~mce
Nov 4, 2015
Nov 4, 2015 at 10:38 AM UTC
Speak from thy heart
so that thy body can rid its desires of being lonely
Capture thy imagination and serenade my naked soul
If summer holds on
let her know that for autumn to come we all have to fall
Just speak from thy heart
and maybe Picasso might bless you with the gift of art
You have Mona Lisa's eyes and Helen Keller's Sight
So be blind to judgement, but open to love
Try to see the unseen and feel the numb
Lose your mind and find it next to my heart,
because love makes us all insane
Speak from thy heart and maybe you might start to love again
Let me be your medicine and rid you of your pain
May 17, 2017
May 17, 2017 at 1:50 PM UTC
Look at this fool.
This babbling fool that stands
over me.
A garden full of burning flowers
visible through his eyes,
but not through ear to ear.
The things that run from his mouth-
which I do not blame them from doing-
**** my brain cells.
He thinks I care.
All I want the former fool.
He who taught me all I know.
The walking book cover,
dictionary, Britannica.
The ultimate thesaurus, movie star.
Bob the Rabbit.
It's in its cage.
Say hi to Bob.
I admire you.
The temperature.
The west and east egg.
All I desire is again
to sit and look up and admirably
watch words spill out of his mouth.
Not these dead song birds
flying out of his.
Not this spineless man walking
on his tongue.
Not, Not,
Not him.
In the distance, a foghorn yells, "No one cares!"
but he is Hellen Keller's doppelganger.
I am slowly going brain dead......
black.
Apr 26, 2013
Apr 26, 2013 at 12:00 AM UTC