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Ampere was the Newton of Electricity.

quote by James C. Maxwell
Added by Lucian Velea
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He was the cause.

He was the cause for the success.
However, he didn’t profess it.
He denied it when others said so.
He established that he’s the cause.
22.10.2011

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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He Was The One

Open your mouth and eat what i give to you,
For he was the one who impregnated her;
But this is the food from my house,
So accept it and spend the night with me.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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It was the dark night

It was the dark night,
the 31st of October.
Shakespeare didn’t sleep.
His thoughts were so deep.
He waited for a witch to come
to finish his drama,
to find the conception
of love deception.

Larisa R (Odessa, Ukraine)

poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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She died—this was the way she died

150

She died—this was the way she died.
And when her breath was done
Took up her simple wardrobe
And started for the sun.
Her little figure at the gate
The Angels must have spied,
Since I could never find her
Upon the mortal side.

poem by Emily Dickinson
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When I Was The Devil

When I was the devil
I sent many a devil
To my brother the devil
In Hell his abode.
.
When I was the devil
I lived half my years
In darkness and fear
I never had rest.
.
So glad I found Christ
Who brought me light
Never again shall
I wander from your sight.

poem by Efe Benjamin
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She Was The Morning And I Was The Night

She was the morning and I was the night
She was the cloudy morning and I was the rainy night
She was the foggy morning and I was the bright night with all the stars Shining in the sky
She was the cold winter morning and I was the stormy night
She was the bright sunny morning and I was the peaceful night

poem by Aldo Kraas
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She Was The Morning And I Was The Night Revised

She was the morning and I was the night
She was the cloudy morning and I was the rainy night
She was the foggy morning and I was the bright night with all the stars Shining in the sky
She was the cold winter morning and I was the stormy night
She was the bright sunny morning and I was the peaceful night

poem by Aldo Kraas
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Such was the case

Little had I imagined or perceived
When I, on that green valley, landed
That I would have had such sequences
As to fall in love with such a coy woman
As one untried, unsoiled and unperceivable
Or that such strong would be the string of love
As it has held us inseparable
Even long after we have separated.
Yet such was the case, a terrible case, Indeed.
13.10.2004

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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There Was A Time / When Poetry Was The Poet's Only Life

THERE WAS A TIME/ WHEN POETRY WAS THE POET’S ONLY LIFE

There was a time
When Poetry was the Poet’s only life-
All that was in his experience
Had its meaning
Only as Poetry.

But when he began to understand
‘Poetry’ had primarily become a ‘means’
For his own Greed and Ego.
Poetry was lost.

But as he was a Poet in his soul,
He and his life too were also lost.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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22: 22 P.M. Was The Time

22: 22 P.M. was the time set for us to meet together,
Because i met you yesterday and you promised to meet me today;
But tomorrow comes and,
This love will be shared with the care of your mind.

It will be all because of your love,
And of the dreams in the right direction;
But apply my love to yourself and tell me how you do feel,
Because i was a stranger and you took me in.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Leaving Was The Best Thing

My home I opened without restrictions.
No conditions were you required to meet.
I wanted to treat you to peace,
And hospitality!
But you wanted to keep secrets.
And disrespected my privacy.
The same I afforded you.
You made my business yours...
As you provided none to share.
I once cared.
My peace of mind is not yours to dissect!
Leaving was the best thing,
You left between us!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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They told me it was the night

And that the door had to be closed
That it was the way it was
The way it should be

They told me
This was the land for you
You-lighter than a grain of soil
And heavier than air-
You are the water seal and you swim

They told me
The shot of the first dawn
Wasn't created for the seven mile steps
Or the wings for a horse
To overfly the day at the priceof the night

I said
Let it go
I said
Be silent
I said I just wanted
To sing

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Togetherness was the goal

One day in the morning
It was cold and I was shivering
Enjoying the beauty
Of the snowy Mountain
Sun started rising
Bringing heat and light beaming
Snow started melting
Water started trickling
Down to the River
Flowing in the Plains
Slowly it mingled
With the water in the River
The water looked one
It wasn’t possible to Separate
Water from the Snow
And
Water from the River
Like lovers with two hearts,
One Soul
Togetherness was the Goal

poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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Jesus was the greatest hero

Jesus was the greatest hero who ever lived.
He had the power of resurrection and the power to forgive.
When Jesus was tortured to death, he died for our sins.
We wish he was still here so that he could resurrect our kin.

God gave his son the power to turn water into wine.
Jesus will always be a hero of yours and a hero of mine.
Jesus is awesome and that's a statement that I won't retract.
His compassion for people has no boundaries and that's a fact.

poem by Randy Johnson
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The desert was the colour of cinnamon

The desert was the colour of cinnamon,
the hills in the distance were blue,
were rolled up like pan cakes
and I was searching for a stopping place
near to some water
the air was a metallic blue, the sand yellow;

time here came to a standstill
where the desertedness catches you sometimes,
in this barren landscape where decay just brings
more and more sand
and dust clouds hang lingering over everything
while the wind flutters and dust hits everywhere.

poem by Gert Strydom
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If beauty was the rain

If beauty was the rain
I would close my eyes and drain
And listen to its reframe
That drips from the roof
If beauty was the sun
Then roast me till I’m done
And the growth that I has won
Lies open petal to the morn that break
Its calm to what may come.
If beauty was the moon
I would sing it a tune of full bloom
That pin point the dark sky
If beauty was a tree
Then cover me in leaves
Fall from my eyes in riot colors
Painted by what bark that shed
Its growth

poem by David E. Patton
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Innocent Was The Betrayal

The rose month is coming
I am not ready to receive the guest.
Mistletoe will takeover
With folded hands wind was blowing
No star accepted the gift
of burning earth.

He walked alone in the ruins
to search the time of rich.
His hunger did not find the bread.

He thought he was good as a bone
in the diet of sunset
on the snurfs of dew.

Innocent was the betrayal
under the sheets.
Pert was the sting.

Myth stumbles out from dead souls
I am walking behind the moon
your hand was on my shoulder.

poem by Satish Verma
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It was the last day of May

It was the last day of May
and winter was creeping,
in to every thing.

Dew had turned
to ripe and a chill,
was in the night air.

Brown trees were stripped
from leaves
and the yellow grass,
waved in the winter wind
as if dead.

Even the contract
was drawing to its end,
but I did not want to give away
knowledge from my speciality
that was acquired through studies
and by the experience of years.

How could any employer
expect the sun
of intimate knowledge to arise,
with a job’s demise?

poem by Gert Strydom
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It was the kind of summer day

It was the kind of summer day
when the sky’s hue
has a certain eternal blue,
where children during the afternoon play

when it feels as if all cares as swept away,
when love seems lovely and true
and lovers stick to each other like glue
and in my arms you did lay.

There was the rejoicing of the birds, the bees,
wild flowers blooming waxen in the veldt
under the hot summer sun,
children were climbing the popular trees,
it had something glorious that it did held
and it was a time of frolicking and fun.

poem by Gert Strydom
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Beautiful was the past weekend with you

Beautiful was the weekend
with you
and much to soon it rushed past,
like it is with all good things

There’s a fresh smell of life
that rises from the ground
after the good rain
and it’s as if I am standing
before one of God’s miracles.

Still more exceptional and wonderful
are the times that you lie against me
and I am caught in you depths
and feel your heart beating against me
and I feel life pulsing through me
and I am glad that you are woman
and the greatest thing of Gods creation
I experience in your love.

poem by Gert Strydom
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