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There are growing concerns that oil companies are making too much in profits at the expense of consumers.

quote by Pete Domenici
Added by Lucian Velea
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There Are Poems Too Painful To Be Written

THERE ARE POEMS TOO PAINFUL TO BE WRITTEN

There are poems too painful to be written
Poems also too shameful-
And poems that cannot be said,
Because of the pain they would give others.

No one can tell all their truth
Without hurting too much.

Silence may be sacred
Hiding – True Love.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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There are already/ Too many dead

THERE ARE ALREADY/ TOO MANY DEAD

There are already
Too many dead-
Too many people to miss-
I can’t stand the thought
That there will be more
But there will be more.

An old man lives-
But his world dies.
However long
He stretches his time out
The pains of more losses,
Will accompany him.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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There are times when hope

There are times when hope,
when the belief in what can be
is the only thing staying with me
and however life slopes

up and down mountains and dales
there are far too much unsaid
and the painful goodbyes
at times leave tears,

are full of fears
and of misunderstandings
that people suffer silently
and when I am judged by other people

may my actions, my words,
my motives and intentions
lead others to true conviction,
to happiness and how things should be.

poem by Gert Strydom
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There Are Not Too Many People

There are not too many,
Who can leave hurdles leaped.
That others seek,
To reach and stir someone within.

With a tone that is expressed,
From an honestness.
And that's how those protective walls,
Come to be shakened.
To break and awaken.

There are not too many...
Who can express,
An experience they possess.
Not one that affects,
A comprehension that connects.

There are not too many,
Who can say they have lived.
And this is believed.
From an understanding given and perceived.

There are not too many people,
Unafraid to 'be'.
Without their hearts,
Left to bleed on their sleeves...
Publicly!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Older I Grow/The More Dead There Are

The older I grow
The more dead there are-
Already there are far too many
Too many to miss and long to see again-
Life is cruel-
We live on and the dead are piled higher and higher-

One day we too will be thrown on the pile
Of others
Who knew and perhaps even loved us-
Life is cruel
Death happens to us all –

poem by Shalom Freedman
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There Are Walls There Are Ceilings

there are wall here and there are ears who listen so well
and eyes who see too clearly
you,
there are ceilings too
there are limits to what you can do
there are floors
between
you
now the cup has overflowed the dams break out
a flood
will cover you, the floor meets the ceiling and you are sandwiched
like a witch,

see..how you crumple?

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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There Is This And There Is Also Always That

there is always a star
and there are always trees that want to reach it

there is a cliff that knows the void up there
there is always a river that sings for it

there are grasses that spread
too there are goats and cows to graze over them

there are seas that rage with big waves
there are rocks waiting for them at the shore

there are dreams that do not come true
there are those who listen and write about them

there are those that die
there those who are newly born

there are ends
and there are beginnings too

war sleeps and peace is awake
this world spins and revolves as the sun looks unblinking

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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There are three ""too much"" and three ""too little"" that can bring a fool down: too much spending and too little money; too much talking and too little knowledge; and too much boasting and too little earnings.

Spanish proverbs
Added by Lucian Velea
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Downtown, one has less time. But there are in Europe much people who have the faith, in South America, too.

quote by Yannick Noah
Added by Lucian Velea
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Make the Money

Sitting at home can bring a new pleasure,
Sizes of the rooms can bring enjoyment.
Sit by and watch television, listen to radio,
Do not involve with the outside world.

The world is just bigger than your house,
It is explored by the big men, who are serving themselves.
They are bigger and better than the rest,
To name a few could mean calamity.

Smaller than the mightiness of God is the ordinary man,
As if the big men are worth too much splendour,
As if the nature of the smaller man in his home is only father,
Like the money has churned from money, not from God.

Does it grow on trees in the back garden?
Do you see the leaves wilting and dying?
Then if they do, you are like them too.
You will have to be bigger and better, so that you are too big.

Life indoors can be rewarding,
But outside you must explore,
To be ranked as a money-maker.

poem by Naveed Akram
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Egos Fly High

Over a deal to purchase a football team.
People of notoriety,
Have elected themselves to use the media,
To demean.

People are losing lives.
And treasures they once owned.
Folks are being ostracized,
Not only from their families...
But also removed from foreclosed homes.

Folks with money and influential friends,
Are making their tantrums a priority.
At the expense of common sense,
For them that has yet to begin.

Egos fly high when little boys play together.
With more concern shown for their toys.
Than those homeless living in shelters.

And everyday they show evidence,
A taste to pride decadence is top on their list.
As millions of people,
Struggle to maintain an existence.
In a remorseful abyss.

Idiots with power,
Insist they have the right...
To ignite,
Their petty infighting.

As those they consider dispensible die!
Just to keep themselves in the limelight,
With perceptions they are adored day and night,
As millions cry.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Silly: A Fart Poem #2:

Naked I stepped from the shower tub, bending over SLIGHTLY,
when all of a sudden came a sound to my ears, roaring, not lightly.
It was just gas (I hoped) but it burst from me like lightning from a cloud.
It was NOT one of your gentle lady's farts, but a fart very VERY loud.

And besides the loudness there was a sound that made me worry;
could it be that recently I had eaten too much curry?
I noticed the bathroom window did not shatter,
but I was quite worried that I may have left a splatter
on the dark gray tile floor behind me.

As luck would have it there was no mess,
so I put on my makeup and put on my dress.

(Nov.2012)

poem by Bri Edwards
Added by Poetry Lover
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Silly; Gross: Fart Poem #2

Naked I stepped from the shower tub, bending over SLIGHTLY,
when all of a sudden came a sound to my ears, roaring, not lightly.
It was just gas (I hoped) but it burst from me like lightning from a cloud.
It was NOT one of your gentle lady's farts, but a fart very VERY loud.

And besides the loudness there was a sound that made me worry;
could it be that recently I had eaten too much curry?
I noticed the bathroom window did not shatter,
but I was quite worried that I may have left a splatter
on the dark gray tile floor behind me.

As luck would have it there was no mess,
so I put on my makeup and put on my dress.

(Nov.2012)

poem by Bri Edwards
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Is That Asking Too Much

(donny lowery/craig wiseman)
Some people say theres no american dream
I hear them talking but they dont say a thing
I still believe youve got to give it to get
Baptize your every aspiration in sweat
I vow my head each night and roll up my sleeves
cause buddy its a long hard road to easy street
Where all the cars go
Fast, fast, fast
When you step on the gas, gas, gas
Nobody else is gonna pass me up going down the road
I want a great big house on the hill
Every pocket full of hundred dollar bills
Givin me a thrill, thrill, thrill I aint never known
Is that asking too much
Am I over the line
Am I way out of touch
Tell me am I losing my mind
I know I wont never get enough
Is that asking too much
Ive never been accused of dreaming too small
I never saw no shame in wanting it all
I guess thats just the curse of being born poor
No matter what you got you always want more
Everybody wants a lot, a little inside
Im not the only one with hungry eyes
That wants a car that goes
Fast, fast, fast
When you step on the gas, gas, gas
Nobody else is gonna pass me up going down the road
I want a great bid house on the hill
Every pocket full of hundred dollar bills
Man, givin me a thrill, thrill, thrill I aint never known
Is that asking too much
Am I over the line
Am I way out of touch
Tell me am I losing my mind
I know I wont never get enough
Is that asking too much
I just wanna go fast, fast, fast
When I step on the gas, gas, gas
Nobody else is gonna pass me up going down the road
I want a great big house on the hill
Every pocket full of hundred dollar bills
Man givin me a thrill, thrill, thrill I aint never known
When I step on the gas, gas, gas
You know I wanna go fast, fast, fast
Nobody better ever pass me up going down the road
I gotta build me a house on the hill
Every pocket full of hundred dollar bills
Man, givin me a thrill, thrill, thrill I aint never known
Now is that asking too much

song performed by Diamond Rio
Added by Lucian Velea
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Is That Askin' Too Much

(Donny Lowery/Craig Wiseman)
Some people say theres no American dream
I hear them talkin' but they dont say a thing
I still believe youve got to give it to get
Baptize your every aspiration in sweat
I vow my head each night and roll up my sleeves
Cause buddy its a long hard road to Easy Street
Where all the cars go
Fast, fast, fast
When you step on the gas, gas, gas
Nobody else is gonna pass me up going down the road
I want a great big house on the hill
Every pocket full of hundred dollar bills
Givin me a thrill, thrill, thrill I aint never known
Is that asking too much
Am I over the line
Am I way out of touch
Tell me am I losing my mind
I know I wont never get enough
Is that asking too much
Ive never been accused of dreaming too small
I never saw no shame in wanting it all
I guess thats just the curse of being born poor
No matter what you got you always want more
Everybody wants a lot, a little inside
Im not the only one with hungry eyes
That wants a car that goes
Fast, fast, fast
When you step on the gas, gas, gas
Nobody else is gonna pass me up going down the road
I want a great bid house on the hill
Every pocket full of hundred dollar bills
Man, givin me a thrill, thrill, thrill I aint never known
Is that asking too much
Am I over the line
Am I way out of touch
Tell me am I losing my mind
I know I wont never get enough
Is that asking too much
I just wanna go fast, fast, fast
When I step on the gas, gas, gas
Nobody else is gonna pass me up going down the road
I want a great big house on the hill
Every pocket full of hundred dollar bills
Man givin me a thrill, thrill, thrill I aint never known
When I step on the gas, gas, gas
You know I wanna go fast, fast, fast
Nobody better ever pass me up going down the road
I gotta build me a house on the hill
Every pocket full of hundred dollar bills
Man, givin' me a thrill, thrill, thrill I aint never known
Now is that asking too much...

song performed by Diamond Rio
Added by Lucian Velea
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Sometimes you can press a little bit and you're trying to do too much and you're trying too hard. You want to win so bad and you want to help the team so badly that you end up trying too much instead of letting the play come to you.

quote by Ed Belfour
Added by Lucian Velea
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A Numbness From My Arm To My Heart

this is the trip of boredom.

it starts from the tip of my toe
as a ripple of a clear pond
from a fish that just
died of suffocation

too much water less air
the fish dies too

then it crawls like a worm
higher to my arm
near my neck

and then it moves down
to my chest finding
a heart

long dead.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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There are the words that couldn’t be twice said

There are the words that couldn’t be twice said,
He, who said once, spent out all his senses.
Only two things have never their end –
The heavens’ blue and the Creator’s mercy.

poem by Anna Akhmatova
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There Are The Poems That Are Not The Real Poems

There are the poems that are not the real poems,
And the poems that are-
And the poems that are seem to come out of their own saying
With a rhythm and a meaning which makes a music so deep,
Even the most lonely soul feels them as a singing inside.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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Quatrain #85 - There are records that we keep hidden.........

There are records that we keep hidden in our mind and heart
of certain actions we have all done right from our life's start.
Binding us like a many knotted string coiling around our stem of life
causing us to live unnaturally and thus experience troubles and strife.

poem by George Krokos
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