U
u
unconciously
unleashed
unsatisfied
unzipped
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Unsatisfied
(Original by The Replacements )
Look me in the eye
then, tell me that I'm satisfied
Was you satisfied?
Look me in the eye
then, tell me that I'm satisfied
Hey, are you satisfied?
And it goes so slowly on
Everything I've ever wanted
Tell me what's wrong
Look me in the eye
and tell me that I'm satisfied
Were you satisfied?
Look me in the eye
then, tell me I'm satisfied
And now are you satisfied?
Everything goes
Well, anything goes all of the time
Everything you dream of
is right in front of you
And every dream is a lie
Look me in the eye
And tell me that I'm satisfed
Look me in the eye
Unsatisfied
I'm so, I'm so unsatisfied
I'm so dissatisfied
I'm so, I'm so unsatisfied
I'm so unsatisfied
Well, I'm-a
I'm so, I'm so unsatisfied
I'm so dissatis,dissattis...
I'm so
song performed by Counting Crows
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Unleashed
Living in silence for eons,
He's planning the end for mankind
His eyes are ablaze with fury,
Venomous gaze is scorching us all
Feeling the stench of the carnage,
Sanctuary is wiped out and lost
The beast will announce it's arrival,
The moon turns bloodred,
The seas start to boil
Dreams of freedom perish and die
Sewing the seeds of death and decay
Soaring up to the sky, demonic vultures fly
Unleashed at last he is stalking the earth,
Spreading chaos and dismay
The sky is darkening slowly
As he draws forth over the plains
Corroding our hearts with his hatred,
Barren and dead lies the ground
Where he has been
His sign will be seen on his chosen
Fire will fall from the sky
Black is the veil of destruction
The lamb lies dead, the grail is no more
Dreams of freedom perish and die
Sewing the seeds of death and decay
Soaring up to the sky, demonic vultures fly
Unleashed at last he is stalking the earth,
Spreading chaos and dismay
Soaring up to the sky, demonic vultures fly
Unleashed at last he is stalking the earth,
Spreading chaos and dismay
Beware of the gaze of the serpent,
The evil can lead you astray
Feeling the blow of the trumpets,
The sky will fall down and life will decline
Dreams of freedom perish and die
Sewing the seeds of death and decay
Soaring up to the sky, demonic vultures fly
Unleashed at last he is stalking the earth,
Spreading chaos and dismay
song performed by Zonata
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Endorsed Remorse
He was not shooting at the people.
He was shooting at the world.
He wasn't shooting in specifics,
It was from a random frustration...
He unleashed to unfurl.
And everytime I hear these excuses,
Made in the defense of these social misfits...
I've come to realize how quick some are,
To apply their comprehension...
For a call for all,
To forgive their embarrassments!
He was not shooting at the people.
He was shooting at the world.
He wasn't shooting in specifics,
It was from a random frustration...
He unleashed to unfurl.
And psychologists are called,
To calm a public fed on decadence.
With attention to examine...
Their lifestyles spent in ignorance,
But no one should pay at their own expense.
And with accepted intelligence,
The media gives them time to explain...
How certain people amongst them live...
Suffer from stress,
That makes them temporarily insane.
He was not shooting at the people.
He was shooting at the world.
He wasn't shooting in specifics,
It was from a random frustration...
He unleashed to unfurl.
And the business of depicting their enemies,
Continues with alerted threats.
Yet no one with this deluded mindset,
Is described as a terrorist.
With a face splashed over the news,
With a demeaning of their ethnic heritage...
Exclaimed to diminish and to disrespect.
But...
He was not shooting at the people.
He was shooting at the world.
He wasn't shooting in specifics,
It was from a random frustration...
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Queen's Rival
QUEEN GULNAAR sat on her ivory bed,
Around her countless treasures were spread;
Her chamber walls were richly inlaid
With agate, porphory, onyx and jade;
The tissues that veiled her delicate breast,
Glowed with the hues of a lapwing's crest;
But still she gazed in her mirror and sighed
"O King, my heart is unsatisfied."
King Feroz bent from his ebony seat:
"Is thy least desire unfulfilled, O Sweet?
"Let thy mouth speak and my life be spent
To clear the sky of thy discontent."
"I tire of my beauty, I tire of this
Empty splendour and shadowless bliss;
"With none to envy and none gainsay,
No savour or salt hath my dream or day."
Queen Gulnaar sighed like a murmuring rose:
"Give me a rival, O King Feroz."
II
King Feroz spoke to his Chief Vizier:
"Lo! ere to-morrow's dawn be here,
"Send forth my messengers over the sea,
To seek seven beautiful brides for me;
"Radiant of feature and regal of mien,
Seven handmaids meet for the Persian Queen."
. . . . .
Seven new moon tides at the Vesper call,
King Feroz led to Queen Gulnaar's hall
A young queen eyed like the morning star:
"I bring thee a rival, O Queen Gulnaar."
But still she gazed in her mirror and sighed:
"O King, my heart is unsatisfied."
Seven queens shone round her ivory bed,
Like seven soft gems on a silken thread,
[...] Read more
poem by Sarojini Naidu
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Untamed
We've done the "porch swing love" so long i can't remember my name
Back and forth nice and slow 'till we get real close and you still want to wait
I'm not sayin that it's a big waste of time
It's been great been a lot of fun
But i'm about to go of like a loaded gun
All i want is a pumped up jacked up screamin' like a mustang
Kick me in my gut thing
Unleashed passion, fingernail scratchin'
Goin' right into a lot of stuff i can't name
What i want is completely untamed
Now you don't have to second guess this thing or try to figure it out
It doesn't matter how, or where, or when, or why
It's gonna happen by itself
How you ever gonna know unless you give it a try
I dare you to just let it go
I bet ya turn into a wild animal
All i want is a pumped up jacked up screamin' like a mustang
Kick me in my gut thing
Unleashed passion, fingernail scratchin'
Goin' right into a lot of stuff i can't name
What i want is completely untamed
A fire cracker ain't what i like
It's gotta blow like dynamite
All i want is a pumped up jacked up screamin' like a mustang
Kick me in my gut thing
Unleashed passion, fingernail scratchin'
Goin' right into a lot of stuff i can't name
What i want is completely untamed
song performed by Yankee Grey
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Untamed
We've done the "porch swing love" so long i can't remember my name
Back and forth nice and slow 'till we get real close and you still want to wait
I'm not sayin that it's a big waste of time
It's been great been a lot of fun
But i'm about to go of like a loaded gun
All i want is a pumped up jacked up screamin' like a mustang
Kick me in my gut thing
Unleashed passion, fingernail scratchin'
Goin' right into a lot of stuff i can't name
What i want is completely untamed
Now you don't have to second guess this thing or try to figure it out
It doesn't matter how, or where, or when, or why
It's gonna happen by itself
How you ever gonna know unless you give it a try
I dare you to just let it go
I bet ya turn into a wild animal
All i want is a pumped up jacked up screamin' like a mustang
Kick me in my gut thing
Unleashed passion, fingernail scratchin'
Goin' right into a lot of stuff i can't name
What i want is completely untamed
A fire cracker ain't what i like
It's gotta blow like dynamite
All i want is a pumped up jacked up screamin' like a mustang
Kick me in my gut thing
Unleashed passion, fingernail scratchin'
Goin' right into a lot of stuff i can't name
What i want is completely untamed
song performed by Yankee Grey
Added by Lucian Velea
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A stupid man's report of what a clever man says can never be accurate, because he unconciously translates what he hears into something he can understand.
quote by Bertrand Russell
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The Troubadour. Canto 4
IT was a wild and untrain'd bower,
Enough to screen from April shower,
Or shelter from June's hotter hour,
Tapestried with starry jessamines,
The summer's gold and silver mines;
With a moss seat, and its turf set
With crowds of the white violet.
And close beside a fountain play'd,
Dim, cool, from its encircling shade;
And lemon trees grew round, as pale
As never yet to them the gale
Had brought a message from the sun
To say their summer task was done.
It was a very solitude
For love in its despairing mood,
With just enough of breath and bloom,
With just enough of calm and gloom,
To suit a heart where love has wrought
His wasting work, with saddest thought;
Where all its sickly fantasies
May call up suiting images:
With flowers like hopes that spring and fade
As only for a mockery made,
And shadows of the boughs that fall
Like sorrow drooping over all.
And LEILA , loveliest! can it be
Such destiny is made for thee?
Yes, it is written on thy brow
The all thy lip may not avow,--
All that in woman's heart can dwell,
Save by a blush unutterable.
Alas! that ever RAYMOND came
To light thy cheek and heart to flame,--
A hidden fire, but not the less
Consuming in its dark recess.
She had leant by his couch of pain,
When throbbing pulse and bursting vein
Fierce spoke the fever, when fate near
Rode on the tainted atmosphere;
And though that parch'd lip spoke alone
Of other love, in fondest tone,
And though the maiden knew that death
Might be upon his lightest breath,
Yet never by her lover's side
More fondly watch'd affianced bride,--
With pain or fear more anxious strove,
Than LEILA watch'd another's love.
[...] Read more
poem by Letitia Elizabeth Landon
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You
A pocket of air awakes the source
Mechanics attached Outside the force
Trigger of matter Makes movement seem
A natural way to Awake to a dream
Unconciously done You rise up to
Familiar surrounds You put head down to
Face to the mirror Think you see
If the mirror wasn't there
Who would you be?
Been there before In so many ways
Dawn of a day Cabaret replay
Step by step A habit forms
Naming today
Cyclic norms
Zinging patterns
Rush around the head
Bring it back
Be still instead
Clasping palms, feel inside
The refuge the world
Cannot hide
No desire, no lust, ungodly greed
Who you are, if that, indeed
water, the sky
The wind, the sun
The birds, the animals
The musical sound.
Gentle, exotic
Caresses and fun
Colours of nature
A Rainbow rotund
Clouds above
Rain droplets that fall
Eternity and zero
You are it all
Heaven and hell
Grandmaster in one
Everything and nothing
All undone..
poem by Littlewing28 Space
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The Watch At Midnight
Dead stars, beneath the midnight's granite cope
and round your dungeon-gulf that blindly grope
and fall not, since no lower than any place
needs when the wing is dash'd and foil'd the face:
is this your shadow on the watcher's thought
imposed, or rather hath his anguish taught
the dumb and suffering dark to send you out,
reptile, the doubles of his lurking doubt,
in coasts of night that well might be supposed
the exiled hall of chaos late-deposed,
to haunt across this hour's desuetude,
immense, that whelms in monumental mood
the broad waste of his spirit, stonily
strewn with the wreck of his eternity?
The plumes of night, unfurl'd
and eyed with fire, are whirl'd
slowly above this watch, funereal:
the vast is wide, and yet
no way lies open; set
no bar, but the flat deep rises, a placid wall.
Some throne thou think'st to win
or pride of thy far kin;
this incomplete and dusty hour to achieve:
know that the hour is one,
eternally begun,
eternally deferr'd, thy grasp a Danaid sieve.
O weary realm, O height
the which exhausted flight
familiar finds, home of its prompting ill!
here, there, or there, or there,
even the same despair;
rest in thy place, O fool, the heart eludes thee still.
Rest — and a new abyss
suddenly yawns, of this
the moment sole, and yet the counterpart:
and thou must house it, thou,
within thy fleshy Now,
thyself the abyss that shrinks, the unbounded hermit-heart:
the mightier heart untold
whose paining depths enfold
all loneliness, all height, all vision'd shores;
and the abyss uncrown'd,
blank failure thro' each bound
from the consummate point thy broken hope implores.
The trees that thro' the tuneful morn had made
bride-dusk for beams that pierce the melting shade,
or thro' the opulent afternoon had stood
lordly, absorb'd in hieratic mood, —
[...] Read more
poem by Christopher John Brennan
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Alternatives....
...........................is it...........................
................ ..........ART or CRAFT........................
............... thought order hand work....................
.........hand work laid aside thought order laid aside.....
.............hand unsatisfied thought unsatisfied..........
..............ordered thought worked hand..................
?
poem by Douglas Scotney
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Ultima Thule: Elegiac
Dark is the morning with mist; in the narrow mouth of the harbor
Motionless lies the sea, under its curtain of cloud;
Dreamily glimmer the sails of ships on the distant horizon,
Like to the towers of a town, built on the verge of the sea.
Slowly and stately and still, they sail forth into the ocean;
With them sail my thoughts over the limitless deep,
Farther and farther away, borne on by unsatisfied longings,
Unto Hesperian isles, unto Ausonian shores.
Now they have vanished away, have disappeared in the ocean;
Sunk are the towers of the town into the depths of the sea!
All have vanished but those that, moored in the neighboring
roadstead,
Sailless at anchor ride, looming so large in the mist.
Vanished, too, are the thoughts, the dim, unsatisfied longings;
Sunk are the turrets of cloud into the ocean of dreams;
While in a haven of rest my heart is riding at anchor,
Held by the chains of love, held by the anchors of trust!
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Passage To India
SINGING my days,
Singing the great achievements of the present,
Singing the strong, light works of engineers,
Our modern wonders, (the antique ponderous Seven outvied,)
In the Old World, the east, the Suez canal,
The New by its mighty railroad spann'd,
The seas inlaid with eloquent, gentle wires,
I sound, to commence, the cry, with thee, O soul,
The Past! the Past! the Past!
The Past! the dark, unfathom'd retrospect! 10
The teeming gulf! the sleepers and the shadows!
The past! the infinite greatness of the past!
For what is the present, after all, but a growth out of the past?
(As a projectile, form'd, impell'd, passing a certain line, still
keeps on,
So the present, utterly form'd, impell'd by the past.)
Passage, O soul, to India!
Eclaircise the myths Asiatic--the primitive fables.
Not you alone, proud truths of the world!
Nor you alone, ye facts of modern science!
But myths and fables of eld--Asia's, Africa's fables! 20
The far-darting beams of the spirit!--the unloos'd dreams!
The deep diving bibles and legends;
The daring plots of the poets--the elder religions;
--O you temples fairer than lilies, pour'd over by the rising sun!
O you fables, spurning the known, eluding the hold of the known,
mounting to heaven!
You lofty and dazzling towers, pinnacled, red as roses, burnish'd
with gold!
Towers of fables immortal, fashion'd from mortal dreams!
You too I welcome, and fully, the same as the rest;
You too with joy I sing.
Passage to India! 30
Lo, soul! seest thou not God's purpose from the first?
The earth to be spann'd, connected by net-work,
The people to become brothers and sisters,
The races, neighbors, to marry and be given in marriage,
The oceans to be cross'd, the distant brought near,
The lands to be welded together.
(A worship new, I sing;
You captains, voyagers, explorers, yours!
You engineers! you architects, machinists, your!
You, not for trade or transportation only, 40
[...] Read more
poem by Walt Whitman
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The Magi
NOW as at all times I can see in the mind's eye,
In their stiff, painted clothes, the pale unsatisfied ones
Appear and disappear in the blue depth of the sky
With all their ancient faces like rain-beaten stones,
And all their helms of Silver hovering side by side,
And all their eyes still fixed, hoping to find once more,
Being by Calvary's turbulence unsatisfied,
The uncontrollable mystery on the bestial floor.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Choosing Losses As Their Gains
Too many...
People.
Too many...
Accept life to grieve.
Too many...
Wear their heartaches,
On wet sleeves.
Too many...
In anger.
Too many...
Show hurt and pain.
Too many...
Unsatisfied,
And complain.
Choosing losses as their gains.
And somewhere inside,
They have hidden all their pride.
And the tears flow like rain,
From their eyes.
The Sun comes to shine.
But it's blocked from their minds.
And they welcome the clouds,
Like lost friends.
And the storms on them descend!
Too many...
People.
Too many...
Accept life to grieve.
Too many...
Wear their heartaches,
On wet sleeves.
Too many...
In anger.
Too many...
Show hurt and pain.
Too many...
Unsatisfied,
And complain.
Choosing losses as their gains.
And somewhere inside,
They have hidden all their pride.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Too Many Gifted Drift On 'Ifs
Too many gifted drift on 'ifs'.
Unsatisfied with a life that's missed.
And this is what is reminisced...
When giving up on rhythm and reason!
To stay stuck in ruts they choose to live in.
Too many want to give up just lip.
Sitting to dwell in aging sentiments.
To waste every second someone gives them.
And puffing hot air about nothing!
A swift kick in the rear will motivate.
Rotating stale debates don't renovate.
Procrastinators hesitate in waste.
Initiating simulated movement faked.
Eliminating anything that takes...
Removal of excuses that create headaches.
With a towing of their moans they own!
Too many gifted drift on 'ifs'.
Unsatisfied with a life that's missed.
And this is what is reminisced...
When giving up on rhythm and reason!
To stay stuck in ruts they choose to live in.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Une nuit que j'étais près d'une affreuse Juive (On Night I Lay With A Frightful Jewess)
Une nuit que j'étais près d'une affreuse Juive,
Comme au long d'un cadavre un cadavre étendu,
Je me pris à songer près de ce corps vendu
À la triste beauté dont mon désir se prive.
Je me représentai sa majesté native,
Son regard de vigueur et de grâces armé,
Ses cheveux qui lui font un casque parfumé,
Et dont le souvenir pour l'amour me ravive.
Car j'eusse avec ferveur baisé ton noble corps,
Et depuis tes pieds frais jusqu'à tes noires tresses
Déroulé le trésor des profondes caresses,
Si, quelque soir, d'un pleur obtenu sans effort
Tu pouvais seulement, ô reine des cruelles!
Obscurcir la splendeur de tes froides prunelles.
One Night I Lay with a Frightful Jewess
One night I lay with a frightful Jewess,
Like a cadaver stretched out beside a cadaver,
And I began to muse, by that peddled body,
About the sad beauty my desire forgoes.
I pictured to myself her native majesty,
Her gaze with power and with grace endowed,
The hair which forms for her a perfumed casque,
And whose souvenir awakens love's desire.
For I would fervently have kissed your fair body
And spread out the treasure of soulful caresses
From your cool feet up to your tresses black,
If, some night, with a tear evoked without effort
You could only, queen of cruel women!
Soften the brilliancy of your cold eyes.
— Translated by William Aggeler
One Night When, near a Fearful Jewess Lying
One night when, near a fearful Jewess lying,
As one corpse by another corpse, I sprawled —
Beside the venal body I was buying,
The beauty that was absent I recalled.
I pictured you in native majesty
With glances full of energy and grace,
[...] Read more
poem by Charles Baudelaire
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Scandalous Decisions
Unleashed are the demons...
On the prowl to defeat,
Signs of correctness.
Replacing defects...
Implanted.
Scandalous decisions,
Are now under attack.
And these demons want their exclusions...
Kept in secret.
But their deceit,
Has some setbacks.
They've been caught and running from their own misdeeds.
And none of them can believe it's time to leave...
Behind their schemes of treason.
Caught and running from their own misdeeds.
And none of them can believe it's time to leave...
Behind their schemes of treason.
Bullying has lost magic.
And building up fears just-to-feed-a greed.
Has got some demons pleading.
The rights of all are doomed!
And gloom is what's ahead for those trusting...
For others to remove their lusts!
They've been caught and running from their own misdeeds.
And none of them can believe it's time to leave...
Behind their schemes of treason.
Caught and running from their own misdeeds.
And none of them can believe it's time to leave...
Behind their schemes of treason.
Scandalous decisions,
Are now under attack.
And these demons want their exclusions...
Kept in secret.
But their deceit,
Has some setbacks.
They've been caught and running from their own misdeeds.
And none of them can believe it's time to leave...
Behind their schemes of treason.
Unleashed are the demons...
On the prowl to defeat,
Signs of correctness.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Black Rain: From Hiroshima To Nagasaki
We dropped the Bomb
though we apologized.
Said we’re sorry
in solid cold cash.
Couldn’t do better
radiant improvised.
Skin-graft surgery.
Medical emergency aid.
Is ground funded in cash.
Memory dedication burns
racial inflamed scorch scar.
Black ash devastation falls
assassinated civil public facts.
Japanese superb marshal arts
somatic sate skilled disciples.
Mystic mind merge mystify.
Discipline defensive army warriors
can’t demoralize kamikaze deny.
Black belt grade girths
achieved attainment ties.
To confront such expertise.
Still technologists terrifies.
You can manpower marshal
but cannot defensively defeat.
Even simple sifted atoms
which compose forfeit feet.
When atoms shattered split
winds shall suffuse blow.
On howling burning heat.
Shock wave will atomize melt
mash reinforced concrete.
Know we dropped A bomb
all past pristine history now?
Predominant today weren’t
awakened alive witness;
too see you take that bow.
Shame all shame encircle;
tremble shamed in defeat.
Values alter change fuse;
within tremendous heat.
Shame aroma smacks in air
aftermath stench salting burnt;
charred human pork meat.
[...] Read more
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Fear Unleashed
Shouldless as the head of the hoodlesss horse men,
I sirentel and call this portfolio 'fear unleashed'
Minted and fresh like a sonnet of delay time,
I smirted and crowned it face up and blind,
It is renewed as connection to you.
Panic without a distracted, I ask what is this strange feeling,
like a rotuen apple at its core peal from inside and out backer once again,
and send to
it's care,
It's the 'Scented of News'
Why do i question this cry, what sweet wine could miss this pour (poor) of a this cup,
Of this most conscience days off wedge and fital,
I ask fear to look me in the eye and tell me what do you see,
do you see love do you see hate tell me what do you see,
The hungry of the blind could tell you this snore of wounds,
The Ambition of hungry seperate the food (fool) from the hungry,
The ability to succed left to stump at choose of will,
Not stepping on steel, I seek the hungry! ! !
This vision have push me toward my fears and the light doesn't fade it merge to gray,
and it make me question my existing? ....(lost)
The lost of my love once of not knowing the color of my first born one's, stir the heat
in my
belly that scour the core of the scent of rotten apple and cure the descended with a
decision?
Like a literally to to a clock it time to unwine, as i seek redemption blue and yellow
in the face. oh what symmetry of colors,
I cry, better yet morron in my tears to apply to the college of my choice,
will, will it self make dream appera,
Found guilty and blue I feel refresh and the hand that i have been giving. It remind
me of cards of hands
How will i finish on top or swagging for more....
Hands to a dagger and flack jacks to a sucessor,
will,
Will inflant ego of a stranger memo left to be babling,
Maid to captivity these here days, This here blessful day! ! Is the day I apply to
college and will forever be know to me as 'Fear Unleashed'
poem by Louis Borgo
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