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It was a world that I wanted to record because it was such a miracle visitation to me.

quote by Laurie Lee
Added by Lucian Velea
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You Were The First That I Wanted

Mommy,
I don't like the way that man is looking at us.

'Wave to him, baby...
That's your daddy.'

But I thought you said,
Uncle Barry was my daddy.

'Uncle Barry is your sister's daddy.'

Then 'who' is Uncle Moe, mommy?

'Uncle Moe, ?
Is my daddy, baby.'

But wouldn't that make him,
My grandfather?
That's what you told Billy!

'But Billy is the baby, honey?
And him being the youngest...
I needed to have at least 'one' child of mine,
Not as dysfunctional as the others.'

What does that mean?

'You will know that soon enough! '

But I thought I was your baby, mommy?

'You ARE?
You will always be my baby, honey.
You were the first that I wanted.'

Oh?
Oh...
Okay!

And I wanted your sister and brother too.
But not like the way I wanted you!

Oh?
Oh...
Okay!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Backwards Boy in the Backwards World

In the early morning, she is lying on the floor. He kneels and whispers, 'I love you.' And whishes he was sorry. He doesn't want to move, so he stays, dreaming about what they could have had if she would have only listened to him. He shakes his head, floating between dreaming and waking, knowing that they're coming to take him away from her forever.

He stares down at her. She is pale and covered with blood and bruises. She doesn't look like a real person. Everything seems strange, like a dream. Like a nightmare in which you lose everything. Light shines through the bloody windows, like an enchanted forest, the dappled shadow of the red leaves rippled on her silent body. He peers through the door, waiting, and thinking of years ago when he first met her. First loved her. First controled her. But years is only the day before yesterday. He is still trying to believe that they will never take her body. but the house is cracking open, because last night, he made her perfect. He made her his.

That's all there is to it. And for no reason, other than his love. He soon realizes that everything feels strange, like dreams that he stays in forever.

But also, he feels ordinary, as if the world has always been this way, and he knows that she wanted this, too, because she loved him. He puts his lips to her ear and says, 'This is how it is when someone loves you, ' and smiles. He makes her lips smile back and remembers all over again all the wishes she whispered and it hurst his heart. He brushes her long hair back. 'It's a shame it took this for you to be perfect. Today, you'll find out what perfection is, ' he whispers. He closes her eyes and holds her hand. 'So pretty when you sleep.' Finally, he opens her eyes and kisses her. She tastes like home. Her round blue eyes are glazed over with Death and Fear, but he likes them, and leaves them open so he can look at them.

When they come, he decides, he will hide behind his face. It's a good trick to have. You turn your face into a mask and then you are safe behind it, especially when they try to take what is yours.

poem by Zoe Guillory
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The First World That Comes To My Mind

The first world
That comes to my mind
Is heaven
The abode
Of God
Is heaven

poem by Aldo Kraas
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Simple Observation #116 - It's a condition of entry to this world that.......

It’s a condition of entry to this world that one day we must leave
and all that will happen while here is hard for most to conceive.

poem by George Krokos
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The world that owns your talents

The world that owns your talents,
The world that owns your breath-
The world will not make up its mind,
Till you have tasted death.

The world will hold your body,
The world cradle your bones;
The world which offers nothing
Might give your words a home.

poem by Patti Masterman
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The World That Lies

Go to the world that lies and exhibits cruelty,
That sins in many ways, in those ways we call evil.
Then resent it from all your heart, and head back
Introducing yourself to the evil people of your own country.
This is a circle of harm and wilderness,
Of forests that contain hideous dwellers,
They occupy my life so madly to resist me,
To occupy my soul and my country.

This country is a team so bright, so like flight
That evil has disappeared, for they have been floating
In a world of prayer from my mind and body,
And, as well, my moods are like the monuments
Loading more picture in my sight and eyes,
My very heart breathes for the light of this tower.

poem by Naveed Akram
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World That I See

In a country that we call home
in a land that's skin and bone
there's a place that's hardly known.
Mountains appearing with the sun
rivers of light they westward run
night is draining from the firmament.
Railway fettler broken down
on a branch line somewhere south
off the map and off the world.
There is no end to the world that I see
there is no end to the world that I see.
As we swing from star to star
we're not going very far
the land is hard and gives no quarter.
The o'cannon garrison falls down
you cannot hear the church bell sound
the sun beats down and gives no sanctuary.
As sure as I stand on this place
the spirit comes
let lightning strike and leave no trace.

song performed by Midnight Oil
Added by Lucian Velea
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Don't Tell the World that You're Waiting for Me

THREE summers have gone since the first time we met, love,
And still 'tis in vain that I ask thee to wed ;
I hear no reply but a gentle " Not yet, love,"
With a smile of your lip, and a shake of your head.
Ah ! how oft have I whispered, how oft have I sued thee,
And breathed my soul's question of " When shall it be ?"
You know, dear, how long and how truly I've wooed thee,
So don't tell the world that you're waiting for me.

I have fashioned a home, where the fairies might dwell, love,
I've planted the myrtle, the rose, and the vine ;
But the cottage to me is a mere hermit's cell, love,
And the bloom will be dull till the flowers are thine.
I've a ring of bright gold, which I gaze on when lonely,
And sigh with Hope's eloquence, " When will it be ?"
There needs but thy " Yes," love--one little word only,
So don't tell the world that you're waiting for me.

poem by Eliza Cook
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They Gave Us A War That Nobody Wanted

I

They gave us a war that nobody wanted
The warnings unheard or simply discounted
The men of the Pentagon surely undaunted
Gave us a war that nobody wanted

II

The weapoms of war are tested and counted
Military hardware displayed and dismounted
Allies ignored and the enemy taunted
They gave us a war that nobody wanted

III

Divisions of men and weaponry flaunted
Ships tanks and planes in quantity granted
By death and destruction civilians are haunted
They gave us a war that nobody wanted

IV

Prime ministers presidents and generals have ranted
Television pictures and news are being slanted
Voices are raised and slogans are chanted
They gave us a war that nobody wanted

V

High powered weapoms and missiles are vaunted
The guns have been fired and the bombs have been planted
All shall be well when the foe is surmounted
They gave us a war that nobody wanted

VI

When the conflict is over and the story recounted
We'll forget the destruction and horror implanted
But remember the soldiers and statesman enchanted
By this terrible war that nobody wanted

poem by Patrick O'Donnell
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Any World That I'm Welcome To

If I had my way I would move to another time;
I'd quit my job, ride the train through the misty night-time.
I'll be ready when my feet touch the ground, wherever I come down,
And if the folks will have me, then they'll have me.
Any world that I'm welcome to [any kind of world]
Any world that I'm welcome to
Any world that I'm welcome to
Is better than the one I come from.
I can hear your words when you speak of what you are and have seen;
I can see your hand reaching out through a shining daydream.
Where the days and nights are not the same, captured happy in a picture frame;
Honey, I will be there, yes, I'll be there.
[chorus]
I got this thing inside me that's got to find a place to hide me.
I only know I must obey this feeling I can't explain away.
I think I'll go to the park, watch the children playing;
Perhaps I'll find in my head what my heart is saying.
A vision of a child returning, in a kingdom where the sky is burning;
Honey, I will be there, yes, I'll be there.
[chorus]
Is better than the one I come from.
Is better than the one I come from.
Any world that I'm welcome to. [any kind of world] x ad lib [fade]

song performed by Steely Dan
Added by Lucian Velea
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A World That Is Learning

Their words are killing you
Your fear is part of their agenda
You feel them shaking you
And if you question their offended
Can you really risk the failure of never being wrong
Can you really take the chance
that you just don't belong to
A world that is searching to find
A world that is learning that everyone is blind
A world that is searching to find
A world that is learning
TV is changing you
You lock the doors and seal the windows
You feel so paranoid
It's like your dead before they get you
Can you really risk the failure of never being wrong
Can you really take the chance
that you just don't belong to
A world that is searching to find
A world that is learning that everyone is blind
A world that is searching to find
A world that is learning we're running out of time
This world is killing you
You've lost control of all your senses
The speed is shaking you
Things change so fast you can't remember
Should you play it say and write somebody elses songs
Or write your own though there's a chance
that you just don't belong to
A world that is searching to find
A world that is learning that everyone is blind
A world that is searching to find
A world that is learning that we're running out of time
A world that we just can't afford
With half of us counting on the coming of the
Lord
A world that is searching for love
A world that is yearning

song performed by Zebra
Added by Lucian Velea
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Living In A World That Some Can Not Leave

Living high in a castle,
Without a mote.
Isn't easy to do...
When one searches the horizon,
For a delivery...
Of an awaited treasured boat.

And one who demands,
They can command steps quicker...
While jumping double dutch,
Without a visable rope.
Should be left alone...
If a commitment to doing this is shown.

Living in a castle and there is no mote...
And waiting for delivery of a big boat,
While jumping double dutch without a visable rope...
Some need!

People should be left to live lives they believe!

Living high in a castle,
Without a mote.
Isn't easy to do...
When one searches the horizon,
For a delivery...
Of an awaited treasured boat.

And one who demands,
They can command steps quicker...
While jumping double dutch,
Without a visable rope.
Should be left alone...
If a commitment to doing this is shown.

People should be left to live lives they believe!

Living in a castle and there is no mote...
And waiting for delivery of a big boat,
While jumping double dutch without a visable rope...
Some need!

People should be left to live lives they believe!

Living in a castle and there is no mote...
And waiting for delivery of a big boat,
While jumping double dutch without a visable rope...
Some need!

People should be left to live lives they believe!
Living in a world that some can not leave.

Living in a castle and there is no mote...
And waiting for delivery of a big boat,
While jumping double dutch without a visable rope...
Some need!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Coffee

Sometimes life is merely a matter of coffee and whatever intimacy a cup of coffee
affords. I once read something about coffee. The thing said that coffee is good for you;
it stimulates all the organs.
I thought at first this was a strange way to put it, and not altogether pleasant, but
as time goes by I have found out that it makes sense in its own limited way. I'll tell you
what I mean.
Yesterday morning I went over to see a girl. I like her. Whatever we had going for us
is gone now. She does not care for me. I blew it and wish I hadn't.
I rang the door bell and waited on the stairs. I could hear her moving around upstairs.
The way she moved I could tell that she was getting up. I had awakened her.
Then she came down the stairs. I could feel her approach in my stomach. Every step she
took stirred my feelings and lead indirectly to her opening the door. She saw me and it
did not please her.
Once upon a time it pleased her very much, last week. I wonder where it went,
pretending to be naive.
"I feel strange now," she said. "I don't want to talk."
"I want a cup of coffee," I said, because it was the last thing in the world
that I wanted. I said it in such a way that it sounded as if I were reading her a telegram
from somebody else, a person who really wanted a cup of coffee, who cared about nothing
else.
"All right," she said.
I followed her up the stairs. It was ridiculous. She had just put some clothes on. They
had not quite adjusted themselves to her body. I could tell you about her ass. We went
into the kitchen.
She took a jar of instant coffee off the shelf and put it on the table. She placed a
cup next to it, and a spoon. I looked at them. She put a pan full of water on the stove
and turned the gas on under it.
All this time she did not say a word. Her clothes adjusted themselves to her body. I
won't. She left the kitchen.
Then she went down the stairs and outside to see if she had any mail. I didn't remember
seeing any. She came back up the stairs and went into another room. She closed the door
after her. I looked at the pan full of water on the stove.
I knew that it would take a year before the water started to boil. It was now October
and there was too much water in the pan. That was the problem. I threw half of the water
into the sink.
The water would boil faster now. It would take only six months. The house was quiet.
I looked out the back porch. There were sacks of garbage there. I stared at the garbage
and tried to figure out what she had been eating lately by studying the containers and
peelings and stuff. I couldn't tell a thing.
It was now March. The water started to boil. I was pleased by this.
I looked at the table. There was the jar of instant coffee, the empty cup and the spoon
all laid out like a funeral service. These are the things that you need to make a cup of
coffee.
When I left the house ten minutes later, the cup of coffee safely inside me like a
grave, I said, "Thank you for the cup of coffee."
"You're welcome," she said. Her voice came from behind a closed door. Her
voice sounded like another telegram. It was really time for me to leave.
I spent the rest of the day not making coffee. It was a comfort. And evening came, I
had dinner in a restaurant and went to a bar. I had some drinks and talked to some people.
We were bar people and said bar things. None of them remembered, and the bar closed. It
was two o'clock in the morning. I had to go outside. It was foggy and cold in San
Francisco. I wondered about the fog and felt very human and exposed.
I decided to go visit another girl. We had not been friends for over a year. Once we
were very close. I wondered what she was thinking about now.
I went to her house. She didn't have a door bell. That was a small victory. One must
keep track of all the small victories. I do, anyway.
She answered the door. She was holding a robe in front of her. She didn't believe that
she was seeing me. "What do you want?" she said, believing now that she was
seeing me. I walked right into the house.
She turned and closed the door in such a way that I could see her profile. She had not
bothered to wrap the robe completely around herself. She was just holding the robe in
front of herself.
I could see an unbroken line of body running from her head to her feet. It looked kind
of strange. Perhaps because it was so late at night.
"What do you want?" she said.
"I want a cup of coffee," I said. What a funny thing to say, to say again for
a cup of coffee was not what I really wanted.
She looked at me and wheeled slightly on the profile. She was not pleased to see me.
Let the AMA tell us that time heals. I looked at the unbroken line of her body.
"Why don't you have a cup of coffee with me?" I said. "I feel like
talking to you. We haven't talked for a long time."
She looked at me and wheeled slightly on the profile. I stared at the unbroken line of
her body. This was not good.
"It's too late," she said. "I have to get up in the morning. If you want
a cup of coffee, there's instant in the kitchen. I have to go to bed."
The kitchen light was on. I looked down the hall into the kitchen. I didn't feel like
going into the kitchen and having another cup of coffee by myself. I didn't feel like
going to anybody else's house and asking them for a cup of coffee.
I realized that the day had been committed to a very strange pilgrimage, and I had not
planned it that way. At least the jar of instant coffee was not on the table, beside an
empty white cup and a spoon.
They say in the spring a young man's fancy turns to thoughts of love. Perhaps if he has
enough time left over, his fancy can even make room for a cup of coffee.

poem by Richard Brautigan from Revenge of the Lawn (1971)
Added by Dan Costinaş
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I got to realizing that I wanted to record, I wanted to experiment. And doing those same old songs the same old way - I said, 'I think it's time for me to have some fun.'

quote by Buck Owens
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True

She said the most hurtful things
words painful piercing
torment torture ringing

And I wish I that were
obliviously unaware

Only because
I know such
in part for share
to be true

poem by Randy Resh
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It was a World/ Titanic

It was a world
That we once lived in
And it was shattered
Like once our heart within
Was shattered into two
One was me
One was you
We prayed and prayed
In fear and pain and panic
Oh God
Make us one again
One for me
For my sake
Peace
Again I'll make
I'll make you two
One for me
One for you

And we were made one
Once more
Before
The world was shattered!

poem by Eman Elbadawi
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My World

Welcome to my world
Don’t worry you’re not blind
It’s the darkness in what I’m curled
You’ll not find my world that kind

You won’t find your way
No light will help you now
In this place there is no day
Your escape I won’t allow

So why don’t you just give up
It’s so easy don’t need to try
Just don’t drink from deaths cup
Coz I don’t want my new toys to die

So sit down enjoy they view
To get out alive you need to see
Not with your eyes but see what is true
See what this world really is to me

Once you find what you are searching for
Will you show me because i feel so lost
No way out coz I fear to open that door
And I wonder what freedom might cost

Please don’t leave me here
I’m sorry I didn’t mean to hurt you
I acted childish i just wanted you near
I didn’t mean to trap you here too

I was just too scared that you’d go
I panicked and tried to tie you down
I understand what I did was so low
Because without you alone I will drown

poem by Rebecca Pepper
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A New Time Was Born

I approached you
And the flash light
Of your voice embraced me.
It was somewhere, near the divine idea.

I hadn't met you before, but
When we united our voices
To be together in this way,
I felt the eternity floating in the air,
That kind of white eternity
In which, everyone wants to stay.

So many people crowded in between us
That we seemed to be two points on a world map.
So long was the distance in between us
That we seemed to live

One at the North Pole
And the other one at the South Pole.

It was the time when
The sun was declining beneath the blue horizon
In a ring of fire
And the moon was rising in the same sky,
And the coming night was embracing
The leaving day.
It was our twilight.

It was the time when
The stars began to
Appear on a new dark sky.
I began to be afraid of losing you.

I took the elapsed seconds
To hang them on the 'Lyre' constellation.
The existent seconds flowed into there
With a terrible rapidity,
Letting those, which were new to come to life.
A new time was born,
In which, we became existent one for each other.

I felt that you wanted to touch me.

I heard a tenderness in your voice.
Our feelings flowed into
The 'Bird of Paradise' constellation.

Suddenly, a rain of stars began to fall down.
I didn't know if it was a real rain of stars
Or a firework, I didn't know
Whether we could really embrace each other,

But I felt
That I was irreversibly transformed
Into another new woman.

poem by Marieta Maglas
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You Are Wanted…

You Are Wanted…

They raped your mother
They shot your father
At point blank
They blinded your sister with a pink
Handkerchief, slapped your brother
Kicked the baby’s crib
Sprayed deadly mace
Spat on her face
And broke the left rib
Of the poor maid
All of those victims are innocent
Who committed no crime; they are too decent
To be victimized by this raid
This is normal procedure
Under a police state
Where there is no future
Today is maybe the date
That you take your last breath
Nothing is cheaper than death.

They killed my Kindergarten’s teacher
That early morning
The whole town was mourning
My teacher spoke like a great preacher
His name was Mr. Michel Gros Jean
He was very nice, he was not mean
The world lost a great man
I can swear that he committed zero sin
He was apparently assassinated
Because a friend showed him a speech
That was written by Lenin
It was a big deal, a major sin
To analyze a draw, a sketch
That was done by an opinionated
Communist. Mr. Michel knew nothing
About such censorship
An innocent was executed for no reasons
People’s lives are cheap
When dictators rule nations.

I remember vividly that awful day
I must have been five years old
This sad event stained my mind and my soul
This poem is dedicated
To all men, women and children
Who were tortured and executed
Like Mr. Gros Jean who placed the first pen
In my hand. He taught me my first lesson
He was a wanted man
You are a wanted person
Too, because I was the student of a great man
His legacy will live on forever
He is in my heart, I will always remember
This giant. He is smiling now. He is having a great day.
You can find out more about the stories of my brothers and sisters
By Google: Fordi9.com. I thank you brothers and sisters.

poem by Hebert Logerie (February 2012)
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Wat did that feeling play'd role in my first love? *Possessiveness* and *emotional breakdown

Water,

As long as you keep your hand gently open and allow it to remain there,

It will never leave your palms, saluting your gentle care.

However, if you attempt to close your fingers round it and try to posses it,

It will spill through the first cracks it finds. These few lines surely arrests some artful substance in it.

A pulsating organ never lets her loved one's brown eyes roam..

His every second, she wanted to own.

He is Mine, all mine, her heart always cried.

She was ready to kill every girl who stood her boy's aside.

She wanted to possess him rather like a non living gem.

She even started hating all the roots who supported his stem.

It became a communal nature of her heart to fear a potential betrayal of loosing a loving admirer.

So, she forced her physical body to get personified as an enquirer.

Gradually, her ears were occupied with some 'Storming' rumours.

She was dumb enough to interpret that she was being pranked by some homicidal envious loosers.

Depth of her 'love is true ' feeling started getting sliced away.

Intense dislike, aversion, hatred and such depressing feelings kissed her day.

Bad luck grounded her life as her exams were dancing around and she was busy creating useless fears.

She became frustrated and faster than it seemed, she started shedding tears.

She felt cheated and started blaming her loving half.

Those bloody jealous rumour spreaders ultimately got an awesome reason to laugh.

Her loved one was practical, so he didn't accept any blame and left her unaccompanied.

He never thought inside her love, someone had planted a revengeful seed.

So, he was cool in his life's approach but his girlfriend had some devastating plans.

She barked aloud at the world that away from her life his lover ran..

After three days, both of them had an examination of life time.

and woefully he heard that everyone's blaming him for a heart break crime.

He broke his life in anger, even lost his control over his studies.

Innocent enough to craft his pain, he started bashing all his buddies.

Exam ended, and two eyes rained.

As the couple's paper went awful, their life was drained.

They broke up, both crying there heart out.

A sweet love story was destroyed, without a doubt.

I write this poem, not so far I see.

As the girl was my girlfriend and the guy was sadly 'Me'.

-Nikhil Chandwani.

poem by Nikhil Chandwani
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