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One of life's most painful moments comes when we must admit that we didn't do our homework, that we are not prepared.

quote by Merlin Olsen
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[9] O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!

O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!
[LOVE POEMS]

POET: MAHENDRA BHATNAGAR

POEMS

1 Passion And Compassion / 1
2 Affection
3 Willing To Live
4 Passion And Compassion / 2
5 Boon
6 Remembrance
7 Pretext
8 To A Distant Person
9 Perception
10 Conclusion
10 You (1)
11 Symbol
12 You (2)
13 In Vain
14 One Night
15 Suddenly
16 Meeting
17 Touch
18 Face To Face
19 Co-Traveller
20 Once And Once only
21 Touchstone
22 In Chorus
23 Good Omens
24 Even Then
25 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (1)
26 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (2)
27 Life Aspirant
28 To The Condemned Woman
29 A Submission
30 At Midday
31 I Accept
32 Who Are You?
33 Solicitation
34 Accept Me
35 Again After Ages …
36 Day-Dreaming
37 Who Are You?
38 You Embellished In Song

[...] Read more

poem by Mahendra Bhatnagar
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Admit This

If it is admitted.
And they did admit it.
Since we all admit this...
You can!

If it is admitted.
And they did admit it.
Since we all admit this...
You can!

Opened minds,
Feel free to be...
Opened minds,
With a truth that's seen.

Opened minds,
Feel free to be...
Opened minds,
With a truth that's seen.

If it is admitted.
And they did admit it.
Since we all admit this...
You can!

If it is admitted.
And they did admit it.
Since we all admit this...
You can!

You don't have to hide behind,
All your lies.
Nor minimize with alibis.

Why can't you just admit this?
We can.

All you need to do is internalize.
And don't compromise with another disguise.

Why can't you just admit this?
We can.

If it is admitted.
And they did admit it.
Since we all admit this...
You can!

If it is admitted.
And they did admit it.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Homework

Written by a. perkins, d. clark, and o. rush.
Oh baby, you know I may be a fool
Im wastin my time by goin to school
The way you got me holdin your door
I cant do my homework anymore
I cant do my homework anymore
Oh baby, I said you got me so blind
Im walkin round in circles, I could loose my mind
The way you got me holdin your door
I cant do my homework anymore
Now baby your as sweet as you can be
Everything you do keep on sending me
Just the kiss of your lips or the touch of your hand
Everything you do is really grand
Oh baby, oh, now what can I do
Im walkin round in circles in love with you
The way you got me holdin your door
I cant do my homework anymore
Now baby your as sweet as you can be
Everything you do keep on sending me
Just the kiss of your lips or the touch of your hand
Everything you do is really grand
Oh baby, oh, now what can I do
Im walkin round in circles in love with you
The way you got me holdin your door
I cant do my homework anymore
I cant do my homework anymore
I cant do my homework anymore
I cant do my homework anymore
I cant do my homework anymore

song performed by Fleetwood Mac
Added by Lucian Velea
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No homework

No homework, no homework, no homework
it would be lovely, it would be great,
it would be as good as chocolate cake.

No homework, no homework, no homework,
oh the things I would do, it would be fun,
it would be a cupcake bun.

No homework, no homework, no homework,
an amazing day, but next day at school,
a pop quiz and now the teacher says hurray.

poem by Ben Mannion
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S[t]alking Mirror Sestina - CV in hand

CV in hand through contest I would stalk,
ILLEgitimate undertaking I admit,
Lightly through the rhyme scheme let me walk,
I subtle sense within sestina fit,
Stalking pseudo is not hard to talk,
Away for those with golden goblet lit

CV of charming nymph will o’ wisp lit
ILLEgible to most seems simple stalk,
Lightly pen traces, hears the table talk,
I see the comments – praises all admit,
Stalking may be fun - together fit,
Away from prying eyes will life-lines walk.

CV few APe, divine, her verse I’d walk
ILLEgal act for gaol or goal bright lit?
Lightly linking her name to my fit
I root acrostic in sestina stalk,
Stalking talking balking not – admit,
Away with critics and their jealous talk.

CV masks beauty more than my trite talk.
ILLEcebrous attractive and alluring walk,
Lightly stroking peerless miss admit,
I find no other muse as charming lit,
Stalk king if she queen Stork to nest add stalk
A way I’d find to offer homage fit.

CV seems perfect. Could another fit?
ILLEcebrum around swan neck would talk
Lightly of love I bear for stem and stalk,
I cannot stem, so, in pursuit I walk,
Stalking close by inspiration lit,
Away she’ll never slip all must admit.

CV in hand my errors I’ll admit
ILLEist I’m never, should hat fit,
Lightly I’d wear it, with her smile love-lit,
I vaunt her emblem, on none else would talk,
Stalking kitten purring I, cat, walk,
Away from idols past – she bloom, I stalk!

All here admit one Muse should stalk,
a perfect fit, eyes lovely lit,
Her praise I talk, with trophy walk.

.............................

Her praise I talk, with trophy walk,
a perfect fit, eyes lovely lit,

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter CXII: Well Prepared

It’s not because a paranoia
It’s not because too cautious
It’s just well prepared

It’s not because a behavior
It’s not because a ritual
It’s just well prepared

It’s not because a genius
It’s not because a clairvoyant
It’s just well prepared

It’s not because detailed analysis
It’s not because calculative plan
It’s just well prepared

It’s not because great strategy
It’s not because flexible mind
It’s just well prepared

It’s not because fantastic budget
It’s not because faithful skill
It’s just well prepared

It’s not because full concentration
It’s not because amateur luck
It’s just well prepared

It’s not because long experience
It’s not because under pressure creativity
It’s just well prepared

It’s not because improved condition
It’s not because natural selection
It’s just well prepared

It’s not because the way of destiny
It’s not because the welcome opportunity
It’s just well prepared

It’s not because calmness
It’s not because maturity
It’s just well prepared

It’s not because success experiment
It’s not because perfect system
It’s just well prepared

It’s not because evil prediction
It’s not because love attention

[...] Read more

poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Selected Poems Of Dr. Mahendra Bhatnagar [2]

[1] O WINGED STEEDS OF DESTINY

O Winged steeds of Destiny!
Holding thy reins
With confidence
And with firm hands,
We will pull them
To give ye direction,
Every time!

Lustrous and indomitable,
We are the sons of the soil
We stand by the toil
We cherish the youthful vigour;
We will pull
Thy bridle — mind you —
To give ye direction,
Every time!

O ye, the sentinels and the stars foretelling!
Our labour is marked with brilliance,
We will pull out
Thy light undecaying;
For, we can reach
The inaccessible Space
Through endurance and steadfast endeavours.
O ye, our stars!
We will, forsooth,
Take away from ye
Thy brilliance!

O ye, the moving invisible hand!
Thou art the invincible citadels
Echoing the distressed cries
Of the ill-fated ones!
Bathed in sweat
We will wash
Thy ominous lines,
And singing sweet the inspiring music
Of hard work,
We will break through
Thy citadels
Of distress and destruction!

O winged steeds of Destiny!
We will hold thy bridle
And give ye direction!

 

[...] Read more

poem by Mahendra Bhatnagar
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Homework Sucks

Homework! Oh homework!
I hate you! You stink!
I wish I could wash you away in the sink!
If only a bomb would explode you to bits!
Homework! Oh homework!
You’re giving me the fits!
Homework is a stumbling block
they all say it is the only way
to sharpen my brain
what a drain!
Keep me thoughtful and creative
Encourage me to be innovative
Keep me occupied with some positive motive

Yeah right
I can see some light
The idea is bright

All this talk, talk, talk
I am just doing my homework
As I listen to the clock
Singing out tick, tock, tick, tock
Do not mock, just do your homework

Some teachers say
'You should do more'
But we stand are ground
And make no fuss
Then we say
No Please
Not More
I HATE HOMEWORK

poem by Fahed Sharaf
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The Ghost - Book IV

Coxcombs, who vainly make pretence
To something of exalted sense
'Bove other men, and, gravely wise,
Affect those pleasures to despise,
Which, merely to the eye confined,
Bring no improvement to the mind,
Rail at all pomp; they would not go
For millions to a puppet-show,
Nor can forgive the mighty crime
Of countenancing pantomime;
No, not at Covent Garden, where,
Without a head for play or player,
Or, could a head be found most fit,
Without one player to second it,
They must, obeying Folly's call,
Thrive by mere show, or not at all
With these grave fops, who, (bless their brains!)
Most cruel to themselves, take pains
For wretchedness, and would be thought
Much wiser than a wise man ought,
For his own happiness, to be;
Who what they hear, and what they see,
And what they smell, and taste, and feel,
Distrust, till Reason sets her seal,
And, by long trains of consequences
Insured, gives sanction to the senses;
Who would not (Heaven forbid it!) waste
One hour in what the world calls Taste,
Nor fondly deign to laugh or cry,
Unless they know some reason why;
With these grave fops, whose system seems
To give up certainty for dreams,
The eye of man is understood
As for no other purpose good
Than as a door, through which, of course,
Their passage crowding, objects force,
A downright usher, to admit
New-comers to the court of Wit:
(Good Gravity! forbear thy spleen;
When I say Wit, I Wisdom mean)
Where (such the practice of the court,
Which legal precedents support)
Not one idea is allow'd
To pass unquestion'd in the crowd,
But ere it can obtain the grace
Of holding in the brain a place,
Before the chief in congregation
Must stand a strict examination.
Not such as those, who physic twirl,
Full fraught with death, from every curl;

[...] Read more

poem by Charles Churchill
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I Hate Homework

As the day grows long and weary
My homework begins to parry
On the dueling field of procrastination
Which unfortunately to my teacher’s fascination
Begins to become more
Homework is oh such a bore
Homework is always a chore
Oh how I hate it to my very core
Day and night it haunts me
Day and night it taunts me
It looms over me like a great darkness
Even though with my great sharpness
It ever grows and piles up like clothes
It becomes more than I am and consumes me right away
From the second I set fit in this home oh how I fear I shall not live another day
But now is the time the time is to be
For homework to be done and me to go free
Slumber is not easy my mind is never at rest
So because of homework I cannot perform my best
Homework is a foul and horrible abomination
Made from the devil’s own form of creation
It causes stress and anger please just take it away
Oh how I fear I shall not live another day.
One day I know those teachers will pay
For assigning so much homework to ruin my day
My day becomes more gray
As time goes by it seems to fly
There’s just so much I want to cry

poem by Damian Dauthdaert
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Tests And Homework And Quizzes AND SCHOOL

You know that if there was one thing,
That you could take from school,
It wouldn't be art or math or history,
It would be work.

Those ugly things you want to blow up,
and smash,
and burn,
and crinkle,
and rip,
and tear,
and throw out.

Those things that make you have to remember,
all the stuff you learned before,
and to study, study, study,
'till your eyes fall out.

“Oh, sorry I wasn't paying attention”
and
'Did we learn this? '
never helps when the test monster gives you the paper, And wishes you well.

But you know she doesn't mean that.
She doesn't want us to do good,
she just wants us to hurry so she can give us another test.

And then it's June!
Good that the year's almost over,
But bad 'cause........
FINAL EXAMS

Oh no! ! !
The mother of all tests,
And what did you say? We have to take more than one!
I'm done for.

Your sitting there,
hand clenched on the pencil,
face sweating,
and then BINGO!
You get the answer.

You jump up and scream,
in the silent classroom.

You shout out with joy 'cause they’re all over.
No more exams, or quizzes, or tests, or homework.

You bring up you paper and sit back down.

[...] Read more

poem by David Kulczyk
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Why do i hate my Homework?

Why do I hate my homework?
It is a pest like a brother
Or a sister of another
It is like a very boring book
Or like my mom’s disgusting cook
It is a creature of its own
The kind that makes me gag and moan

Why do I hate my homework?
I really hate my homework
It makes me want to go berserk
I don’t want to do my homework today
Nor tomorrow or the 25th of May
Homework is like poisonous snakes
Or the mystery meat my cafeteria makes

I rather listen to my Ipod
Then write an essay about Cape Cod
I rather spend my days staring at the sun
Then do my homework that needs to be done
I rather swim in a pool with a shark
Then learn fractions with my math teacher, Mr. Clark
And this is why I hate my homework

By Anthony Pham & his little sister, Sharon

poem by Anthony Pham
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Life Teach Me This

this poem takes from me about 2 months to finish it, so please if there is any suggestios please tell me about it and i wanna see your comments. thx and injoy it....

Life teach me this
To be sure of your self it isn’t mean that you are conceited
If you cried it isn’t mean that you have weak heart
If you smile it isn’t mean that you haven’t sad and pain inside you
If you mistake once it isn’t mean that you are bad person

Life teach me this
The most painful thing in life is to be ignored by others
The most painful thing in life is to lose a friend you really love, to earning other one didn’t care about you
The most painful thing in life is when your friends so busy from condolence you especially when you need someone close to upraise your morale
The most painful thing in life when you tell about your deep thoughts and they laughing mockery in your face
The most painful thing in life when you figure out that the only person who care about you is only you

Life teach me this
The most beautiful moments in life when you live in people hearts without lying and deceiving
The most beautiful moments in life when you resist the devil and came back to God and knocking his door after a long absence
The most beautiful moments in life when every one around care about you and helping you to heal your wounds

Life teach me this
Life is cruel when it makes you abandon your only love and all your precious dreams, and judging on you by death when you still alive
Life is cruel when it steel the precious smile, the happiness and the greatest heart, then you hate your life and the world going upside down
Life is cruel when it's turn your days to a dark nights, grief and always crying specially when you used to be amorous to the sun
Life is cruel when misery and pain take a deep place in your life and you know that your happiness moments is so rarely
Life is cruel especially when you start crying and no one hear you, when you start shouting and no one answering you only your echo
Life is cruel when it snatching your soul, emotions and your feelings and replace it by forgetful and separating you from you best friends
Life is cruel when loneliness became your route mate and oppression, wormwood became your best friends

'Life is so cruel when you read these words and you know it's expressing about what inside your heart'
'Life is so cruel when you read these phrases and you know it's just a flash of your life'

SO LIFE TEACH ME THIS

poem by Damn Angel
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Are You Ready?

Are you ready?
Action boy now
Action girl now
Be prepared to climb another mountain
Are you ready?
Action boy now
Action girl now
Be prepared to swim across the ocean
Are you ready?
Be prepared
To fill you plate
Be prepared
Dont hesitate
Be prepared
For a great big bust
Be prepared
To do what you must
Be prepared
To take a hit
Be prepared
To go for it
Be prepared
For a sneak attack
Be prepared
Just dont look back
They say, where theres a will theres a way
Weve heard, these are the things that they say
So.
Reach out for that big fat star
Stick to the groove
And go real far
Outrun the ones who steal the abar (? ? )
Are you ready?
Action boy now
Action girl now
Be prepared to blast into the future
Action boy now
Action girl now
Be prepared to rearrange the picture
Are you ready?

song performed by Devo
Added by Lucian Velea
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Bad Side Of The Moon

(bernie taupin/elton john)
Published by songs of polygram international - bmi
Seems as though Ive lived my life on the bad side of the moon
To stir your dregs, and sittin still, without a rustic spoon
Now come on people, live with me, where the light has never shone
And the harlots flock like hummingbirds, speakin in a foreign tongue
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
It seems as though Ive lived my life on the bad side of the moon
To stir your dregs, and sittin still, without a rustic spoon
Now come on people, live with me, where the light has never shone
And the harlots flock like hummingbirds, speakin in a foreign tongue
Im a light world away, from the people who make me stay
Sittin on the bad side of the moon
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
There aint no need for watchdogs here, to justify our ways
We lived our lives in manacles, the main cause of our stay
And exiled here from other worlds, my sentence comes to soon
Why should I be made to pay on the bad side of the moon
Im a light world away, from the people who make me stay
Sittin on the bad side of the moon
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life

song performed by April Wine
Added by Lucian Velea
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Home work

sometimesa my home work is small
sometimes my home work is long
but when ever i do my home work
it is always wrong

sometimes i do my home work at a low pace
sometimes i do my homework at a lfast lane
but how ever i do my homework
my homework is still a pain

sometimes my homework is eazy
sometimes homework is hard
but whenever i can't do my homework
i feel like a retard
by
mehwish shakeel

poem by Mehwish Shakeel
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My excuses

I started on my homework
but my pen ran out of ink.
My hamster ate my homework.
My computer's on the blink.

I accidentally dropped it
in the soup my mom was cooking.
My brother flushed it down the toilet
when I wasn't looking.

My mother ran my homework
through the washer and the dryer.
An airplane crashed into our house.
My homework caught on fire.

Tornadoes blew my notes away.
Volcanoes struck our town.
My homework was taken
by an evil killer clown.

Some aliens abducted me.
I had a shark attack.
A pirate swiped my homework
and refused to give it back.

It took so long to make these up
I realized, with dread,
it would have just been easier
to do the work instead.

poem by Arielle Perkins
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XI. Guido

You are the Cardinal Acciaiuoli, and you,
Abate Panciatichi—two good Tuscan names:
Acciaiuoli—ah, your ancestor it was
Built the huge battlemented convent-block
Over the little forky flashing Greve
That takes the quick turn at the foot o' the hill
Just as one first sees Florence: oh those days!
'T is Ema, though, the other rivulet,
The one-arched brown brick bridge yawns over,—yes,
Gallop and go five minutes, and you gain
The Roman Gate from where the Ema's bridged:
Kingfishers fly there: how I see the bend
O'erturreted by Certosa which he built,
That Senescal (we styled him) of your House!
I do adjure you, help me, Sirs! My blood
Comes from as far a source: ought it to end
This way, by leakage through their scaffold-planks
Into Rome's sink where her red refuse runs?
Sirs, I beseech you by blood-sympathy,
If there be any vile experiment
In the air,—if this your visit simply prove,
When all's done, just a well-intentioned trick,
That tries for truth truer than truth itself,
By startling up a man, ere break of day,
To tell him he must die at sunset,—pshaw!
That man's a Franceschini; feel his pulse,
Laugh at your folly, and let's all go sleep!
You have my last word,—innocent am I
As Innocent my Pope and murderer,
Innocent as a babe, as Mary's own,
As Mary's self,—I said, say and repeat,—
And why, then, should I die twelve hours hence? I—
Whom, not twelve hours ago, the gaoler bade
Turn to my straw-truss, settle and sleep sound
That I might wake the sooner, promptlier pay
His due of meat-and-drink-indulgence, cross
His palm with fee of the good-hand, beside,
As gallants use who go at large again!
For why? All honest Rome approved my part;
Whoever owned wife, sister, daughter,—nay,
Mistress,—had any shadow of any right
That looks like right, and, all the more resolved,
Held it with tooth and nail,—these manly men
Approved! I being for Rome, Rome was for me.
Then, there's the point reserved, the subterfuge
My lawyers held by, kept for last resource,
Firm should all else,—the impossible fancy!—fail,
And sneaking burgess-spirit win the day.
The knaves! One plea at least would hold,—they laughed,—
One grappling-iron scratch the bottom-rock

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Remember

I remember moments of happiness
Coming home, goo goo eyed
After talking to a boy I liked
I remember moments of sadness
Coming home, teary eyed
After leaving my heart as a memento
To that boy I really liked
I remember moments of peace
After winning one of life's battles
Having a conscience the weight of air
I remember moments of bliss
After walking the quarter of a lifemile
Finding a true friend
I remember moments of grief
After finding that dear friend
Would never have breakfast again
I remember moments of laughter
After the past had past
And the rearview revealed frustration's
humor
I remember moments of tears nectar
When I found my dreams dead
After the doctor helped me number my
days
I remember moments of pain
When all I ever needed was lacked
And all I ever lacked was needed
I remember moments of gain
After all I ever wanted was mine
And all I ever wanted to be was I
I remember moments of love
When a hug made my heart skip
And a smile made my life smile
I remember moments of hurt
When pain blurred love's beauty
And that hug made my heart shrug
I remember moments like this
When I remember all I remember
And remember that life is but a moment.

poem by Jenim Dibie
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Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau, Saviour of Society

Epigraph

Υδραν φονεύσας, μυρίων τ᾽ ἄλλων πόνων
διῆλθον ἀγέλας . . .
τὸ λοίσθιον δὲ τόνδ᾽ ἔτλην τάλας πόνον,
. . . δῶμα θριγκῶσαι κακοῖς.

I slew the Hydra, and from labour pass'd
To labour — tribes of labours! Till, at last,
Attempting one more labour, in a trice,
Alack, with ills I crowned the edifice.

You have seen better days, dear? So have I —
And worse too, for they brought no such bud-mouth
As yours to lisp "You wish you knew me!" Well,
Wise men, 't is said, have sometimes wished the same,
And wished and had their trouble for their pains.
Suppose my Œdipus should lurk at last
Under a pork-pie hat and crinoline,
And, latish, pounce on Sphynx in Leicester Square?
Or likelier, what if Sphynx in wise old age,
Grown sick of snapping foolish people's heads,
And jealous for her riddle's proper rede, —
Jealous that the good trick which served the turn
Have justice rendered it, nor class one day
With friend Home's stilts and tongs and medium-ware,—
What if the once redoubted Sphynx, I say,
(Because night draws on, and the sands increase,
And desert-whispers grow a prophecy)
Tell all to Corinth of her own accord.
Bright Corinth, not dull Thebes, for Lais' sake,
Who finds me hardly grey, and likes my nose,
And thinks a man of sixty at the prime?
Good! It shall be! Revealment of myself!
But listen, for we must co-operate;
I don't drink tea: permit me the cigar!
First, how to make the matter plain, of course —
What was the law by which I lived. Let 's see:
Ay, we must take one instant of my life
Spent sitting by your side in this neat room:
Watch well the way I use it, and don't laugh!
Here's paper on the table, pen and ink:
Give me the soiled bit — not the pretty rose!
See! having sat an hour, I'm rested now,
Therefore want work: and spy no better work
For eye and hand and mind that guides them both,
During this instant, than to draw my pen
From blot One — thus — up, up to blot Two — thus —
Which I at last reach, thus, and here's my line
Five inches long and tolerably straight:

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning (1871)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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