People make me smile the way
their eyes shine when they talk
about something they love
when they feed me food. Or tell
me how much they love me
when I look into someone's
eyes and see it I see that look
in their eyes I see love in them
When I see someone laugh and
have fun in what they do
The way they cry for there lost
When they give me a smile and
tell me how beautiful I am
People are beautiful well some
are and I wish someday I can
find someone who will look at
me and say "you have that look
in your eye" what look?
I want to find someone so
beautiful in the inside I can't
stay away they amaze me with
what they say an do how they
will dance in the rain and know
every detail about me
Will bring me Starbucks on a
rainy day and just talk about
I want someone beautiful
I am a citizen of that country
Today is her birthday
Surrounded by barbed wire,
Waiting for the command of firearms
I think that everyone has birthday
Somebody knows, somebody doesn't know
Sometime valuable, sometime worthless.
They have countries, they have rules
Mathematical formulas are known
They have birthdays, festivals
Then the red , black, white, how many countries
They have birthdays.
If give up all the barbed wire, discrimination
Mothers would be same with the smell of soil
Mother would be human being
Then birthday of the world, to me, your, everybody
So today I feel
My birthday has become one of the world's birthday.
SANDIP GOSWAMI, INDIA
My wife kissed me thrice
In quick succession
You have finished your quota so early I said
Today is your Birthday darling
She said with
i got a call
for us all
to load for a goal
of fun and run
it was a trio
where we would pop whil
and sim dip
it was exxiting
SLIDING FROM THE MOUNTAIN TOP
(APROPOS MLK: 3)
Lingering in the spaces of time, standing
On the muddy banks of reality, wandering souls
Chase the dream of Moses: the gleamed glory
From the mountain top veiled by the inept web
Of deceptive policies of the word-weavers .
Dew-clawed changes have lost their mesmerizing
Magic; reality having waved its wand of truth
Revealing the smiling facades of justice.
Yes we have overcome cowering iniquities
And have reached the valley of the promise land;
But Aaron’s reprieve does not abide here: its asphalt
Altars soaked and stained with the dried blood of our children.
Here in the shadow of the valley of death, we continue
Marching and singing anew; our feet wearily worn
With the mud of deceit; vague chants mimic lost
Freedom songs blowing in whispering winds.
Today, the Movement is just a passing scene
Played out on the roller coaster stages of history:
Praising maids, butlers, buses, bridges…ghost cities…
And the nation mocks the birthday of its Prince of Peace
With black sales days; stirring the painful blood flow
Of memory of buyers feuding at the auction block.
But steadfast we must stand; our audacious God cannot be mocked.
The Dreamer lies dead but the spirit of the dream soars higher
Than the fist of clutched hope; and Sartre’s are still ringing
And their resounding echoes cannot ever be undone!
This is still the land of the free and the home of the brave;
Sweet land of liberty; and where love and peace abide
Evil injustice cannot hide; the dream is everywhere:
May we forever be worthy lamplighters of the trust in the Dream.
On your birthday, let me
Tell you a story of a group of three.
Good friends they were,
Who enjoyed it all, if only it was for free.
Hung out with some,
Waved along to most,
But failed to befriend any.
One blamed it on other,
And other on another,
They never chipped in a penny.
Together always they came with a smile,
And together they always walked
When they hung out with some
And waved along to most,
The true reasons were never talked.
Day after day, and week after week,
They came, cherished
And smiled with glee
Till one fine day, when everyone got robbed
Except for our 'free three'.
The streets were scanned
And choppers were shot,
But they bothered no clue,
And one is dead, the other hanged,
I know the third is you.
Happy Birthday to you, may your secrets never get disclosed ;-)
My sweet Ruby's birthday,
Naturally on Valentine's day,
In her honor, the NY city of Beacon
Will close their schools!
Ain't that a kick?
She seems to be "missing in action" lately,
Many wonder why,
She is so loved on this site,
Many of us cry....
So come back home,
To the five and dime,
We'll even through in some
Jimmy Dean sausages!!!
Or, as Kenny Roger's first song went,
"Ruby, don't take your poems to town!"