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Unpredictability, too, can become monotonous.

quote by Eric Hoffer
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Parfum Exotique (Exotic Perfume)

Quand, les deux yeux fermés, en un soir chaud d'automne,
Je respire l'odeur de ton sein chaleureux,
Je vois se dérouler des rivages heureux
Qu'éblouissent les feux d'un soleil monotone;

Une île paresseuse où la nature donne
Des arbres singuliers et des fruits savoureux;
Des hommes dont le corps est mince et vigoureux,
Et des femmes dont l'oeil par sa franchise étonne.

Guidé par ton odeur vers de charmants climats,
Je vois un port rempli de voiles et de mâts
Encor tout fatigués par la vague marine,

Pendant que le parfum des verts tamariniers,
Qui circule dans l'air et m'enfle la narine,
Se mêle dans mon âme au chant des mariniers.

Exotic Perfume

When, with both my eyes closed, on a hot autumn night,
I inhale the fragrance of your warm breast
I see happy shores spread out before me,
On which shines a dazzling and monotonous sun;

A lazy isle to which nature has given
Singular trees, savory fruits,
Men with bodies vigorous and slender,
And women in whose eyes shines a startling candor.

Guided by your fragrance to these charming countries,
I see a port filled with sails and rigging
Still utterly wearied by the waves of the sea,

While the perfume of the green tamarinds,
That permeates the air, and elates my nostrils,
Is mingled in my soul with the sailors' chanteys.

— Translated by William Aggeler

Exotic Perfume

When I, with eyes shut, on warm autumn eves,
The fragrance of your warmer breast respire,
I see a country bathed in solar fire
Whose happy shores its lustre never leaves;

An isle of indolence, where nature raises
Singular trees and fruits both sweet and tender,

[...] Read more

poem by Charles Baudelaire
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Transcendency

Life at times is just too hard
Tolled by duties, or its obligations that bombard

Responsibilities monotonous, tiring and immense
Breathing feels taxing and environment dense

Days become arduous, nights burdensome
Unpredictability rendering brains numb

But still stand unbowed some Iron men
Solemnity and sincerity to life stays unbent

Hope‘s their weapon, and optimism crown
Life will test, but would never frown

Salaam (salutations) to such spirited beings
Whose forbearance is meriting and patience worth seeing

Smiling and letting the hard knocks pass by
Such dignity and principles, one can't defy

Left lasting visuals for people around ‘em
How many have u seen, such living gems

poem by Samima Shah
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Monotony

One monotonous day is followed
by another monotonous, identical day. The same
things will happen, they will happen again --
the same moments find us and leave us.

A month passes and ushers in another month.
One easily guesses the coming events;
they are the boring ones of yesterday.
And the morrow ends up not resembling a morrow anymore.

poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
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Desert Tree

Starving for water,
Shade an unimaginable luxury,
Surviving blistering heat,
The soul quickly perishing.

Infertile soil is my foundation,
Once nature's prosperous womb,
I am her only child now,
Isolated against this monotonous hell.

Starving for attention,
Contact an unimaginable luxury,
Surviving every lonely day,
The soul quickly perishing.

Cold concrete is my foundation,
Once a path to pass,
I sleep upon her now,
Isolated against this monotonous hell.

poem by Ash Trees
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The Lady Of La Garaye - Part II

A FIRST walk after sickness: the sweet breeze
That murmurs welcome in the bending trees,
When the cold shadowy foe of life departs,
And the warm blood flows freely through our hearts:
The smell of roses,--sound of trickling streams,
The elastic turf cross-barred with golden gleams,
That seems to lift, and meet our faltering tread;
The happy birds, loud singing overhead;
The glorious range of distant shade and light,
In blue perspective, rapturous to our sight,
Weary of draperied curtains folding round,
And the monotonous chamber's narrow bound;
With,--best of all,--the consciousness at length,
In every nerve of sure returning strength:--

Long the dream stayed to cheer that darkened room,
That this should be the end of all that gloom!

Long, as the vacant life trained idly by,
She pressed her pillow with a restless sigh,--
'To-morrow, surely, I shall stronger feel!'
To-morrow! but the slow days onward steal,
And find her still with feverish aching head,
Still cramped with pain; still lingering in her bed;
Still sighing out the tedium of the time;
Still listening to the clock's recurring chime,
As though the very hours that struck were foes,
And might, but would not, grant complete respose.
Until the skilled physician,--sadly bold
From frequent questioning,--her sentence told!
That no good end could come to her faint yearning,--
That no bright hour should see her health returning,--
That changeful seasons,--not for one dark year,
But on through life,--must teach her how to bear:
For through all Springs, with rainbow-tinted showers,
And through all Summers, with their wealth of flowers,
And every Autumn, with its harvest-home,
And all white Winters of the time to come,--
Crooked and sick for ever she must be:
Her life of wild activity and glee
Was with the past, the future was a life
Dismal and feeble; full of suffering; rife
With chill denials of accustomed joy,
Continual torment, and obscure annoy.
Blighted in all her bloom,--her withered frame
Must now inherit age; young but in name.
Never could she, at close of some long day
Of pain that strove with hope, exulting lay
A tiny new-born infant on her breast,
And, in the soft lamp's glimmer, sink to rest,

[...] Read more

poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
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Bull Horn Grip

Eagle like, descends the road,
deep red wine potion, brusque,
as hidden eyes reckon in dusk
of this man to stare and bode.

Hours so, consent to darkness;
starry skies salute his walking,
tis maids of long mane talking,
about a raw prowess to egress.

In the tavern, at the dockside,
pipers play a monotonous mode,
destinies weave, deathly abode,
in deep spaces of brines abide.

A drink is life, glass of grog,
players render the pipes loud,
dim stars blink and a low cloud,
covers the shore in shroud fog.

Pipers monotonous tones wield,
dew drops dropp from foreheads,
Charon awaits for a spilled red,
a bull horn blade of Sheffield.

Outside steps, inside the mist,
maids weave, his life's thread,
Persephone will be his one wed,
his bull horn Sheffield, in fist.

poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Oriental Dancer

[Oriental Dancer]

Was her obstinacy to make you, extol her?
Or her elastic flesh beneath colorful veils?
Images she carefully designed, to perceptibly err,
a Datura stream of Crimson to run in vein trails..

A dance, this dance depicts an ancient instinct,
a trite so elementary it's candor to expiate,
a foggy atmosphere to rule your cause, to extinct,
all of your amulets, to kill your faith, and to bait..

..orderly alive images, placed upon this altar,
alive force, a flesh, to offer facial value indulged,
still dreamy power, as if your manhood is to falter,
this muse will submit, just to adhere so, to divulge.

She dances, as her jingling finger plates nightly ring
and ring, incursion of a deathly whiff, a drink of rye..
to sound a monotonous of Dervish siege and sing,
you will become a victim of her charm, eager to die.

She dances, an alluring raid of scents, coiling snake
surrounds hypnotizing your despotism, to thrill,
resistances that may condemn a heavenly awake,
but still a deathly Siren, weighs her glance to kill..

Monotonous calls, a mane dark, she waves in circles
curvatures of her body moves, invasion of your senses,
hand-drums, a lyre, a lute, echo on strained muscles,
you are disposed to her drag, her eyes, and her incense...

poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Monotonous Monologues

Dead space traced to boredom.
And conversations with it,
Exchange this afterall.

Monotonous monologues,
Beating into the ground
With prolonged redundancy.
Make sense for many not to listen.
Or choose to fall to sleep.

Why do some people,
Keep repeating their limited philosophies?
It makes it pointless to disagree.
This fuels a uselessness that is abused...
And purposely used for one to be contrary.

With more than a bit,
Of surfaced contradiction added to the mix.
And a dipping of bait that is solicited with it.

Monotonous monologues,
Beating into the ground
With prolonged redundancy.
Make sense for many not to listen.
Or choose to fall to sleep.

Dead space traced to boredom.
And conversations with it,
Exchange this afterall.

As a drifting consciousness...
Shifts quickly into a daydream fix!
Assisted by a continuous drone.
That takes a place,
As a sound in the background.
To eventually go unknown.

'Excuse me? EXCUSE ME!
No need to look around!
Yes...
I am speaking to you.
I'd like to have everyone's 'full' attention,
Please?
Thank you!
Now...
As I was saying...'

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Not A Monotony

the sounds of monotony are
daily and
routinized like the waves of the sea
of the same height
and frequency,

until one day
something unexpected happens
like
many drowned
so many children buried in the mud and
mothers are crying on the streets

not for help anymore but
for a chain of griefs

there is a scream and this is not monotonous
it stabs our hearts
and makes us ponder

deaths can never be monotonous
our own death in the future
unique and unimaginable and we shudder

it is this nerve that has no ending

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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You are what you do. If you do boring, stupid monotonous work, chances are you'll end up boring, stupid and monotonous. Work is a much better explanation for the creeping cretinization all around us than even such significant moronizing mechanisms as television and education. People who are regimented all their lives, handed off to work from school and bracketed by the family in the beginning and the nursing home at the end, are habituated to hierarchy and psychologically enslaved. Their aptitude for autonomy is so atrophied that their fear of freedom is among their few rationally grounded phobias.

quote by Bob Black
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To emphasize the afterlife is to deny life. To concentrate on Heaven is to create hell. In their desperate longing to transcend the disorderliness, friction, and unpredictability that pesters life; in their desire for a fresh start in a tidy habitat, germ-free and secured by angels, religious multitudes are gambling the only life they may ever have on a dark horse in a race that has no finish line.

Tom Robbins in Skinny Legs and All (1990)
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When it comes about acting I love the connection with other actors and the unpredictability within the structure. In 10 different takes, you can do a scene 10 different ways. Capturing spontaneous moments is what it's all about.

quote by Scott Patterson
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If you put yourself in a situation of unpredictability and then find that it's completely possible to accept it, then you become an observer.

quote by David Tudor
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The best subjects are always people, who never fail to amaze me by their unpredictability.

quote by Ronnie James Dio
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I don't like sitting around sets - I don't like the unpredictability of it.

quote by Andrea Martin
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'Press Your Luck' was probably the most exciting because of the unpredictability of the game and how I won on one of the three days on the very last spin against all odds. It was one of those great unpredictable game show moments.

quote by Randy West
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Jekyll And Hyde

Your innocence all but fades
When we peel the veneer away
It's all an act which you stage
With your two faced barricades
Rage consumes
You every night
Caged inside you
Trying to get out
Schizophrenic basic needs
Fools me into complacency
But now I see through your facade
Behind the mask a monster snarls
Hatred burning
In your chest
Dazed but learning
In your quest
chorus
Oh it's killing me your unpredictability
Oh all the time
You hide behind
Your Jekyll and Hyde
Now I realise
There's a dark side
Disguised
Always changing
Then love hating
Baiting me
Your innocence all but fades
When we peel the veneer away
It's all an act which you stage
With your two faced barricades
Rage consumes you every night
Caged inside you trying to get out
chorus

song performed by Judas Priest
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The future is too interesting and dangerous to be entrusted to any predictable, reliable agency. We need all the fallibility we can get. Most of all, we need to preserve the absolute unpredictability and total improbability of our connected minds. That way we can keep open all the options, as we have in the past.

quote by Lewis Thomas
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The Universe Is Stranger

THE UNIVERSE IS STRANGER

The universe is stranger
Than the Strangeness we now know-
Its stranger than the Strangeness
The past has so far shown.

The universe is Stranger
Than Strangeness will ever be
It has within itself its own –
Unpredictability.

We cannot know
Cannot suggest
But one day it may well express
Its essence as
God’s Greatest Guess.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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