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Suicide Boulevard

all aboard the suicide express
hop on in and release all stress
there's no more time to sit and be depressed
get everything off your chest
use the gun it will work best
all aboard the suicide express..

poem by Romeo Michael
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Get Up Off Your Knees and Think

The time has come...
For self inflicted sorrows to end.
Get up off your knees and think!
That which has pushed you to the brink,
Can not last without your involvement!
You have fed it like a habit too long!
Your happiness begs to be released...
If you allow it to increase within your mind!
That time has long been awaiting.
Get up off your knees and think...
Everything that has held you down,
Enjoys the grief you are too willing to give!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Murder of the Orient Express

Since 1883, the European railway that linked Paris to Istanbul was born.
It had a world famous name or you can call it an 'address',
It made murder mysteries famous, --Agatha Christie's,
'The Murder on the Orient Express',
- the first European transcontinental train was born.
For almost 127 years, the train rattled and roamed the European countryside
With the best food and drink at the time and 'coachettes' for sleeping
Going trough little villages and big cities,
The people on board, most of them happy but some of them weeping.
'City of New Orleans', a train that was the idea of the song by the same name,
-it was written by Steve Goodman,
And made famous by Arlo Guthrie.
Whose father, Woody Guthrie, by his American Folk Style music was his fame.
Crosby, Stills, and Nash, sang about train the 'Marrakesh Express'.
What song will be written about the demise of The Orient Express?
I've traveled countries in Europe, it was fun and it was intimate,
-you can get close to people from all over.
I remember sitting next to a German music librarian from Leipzig.
We talked about J. S. Bach and the wall.
That was in 1979, on a train that was bound to Copenhagen from Venice.
The wall came down 10 years later, and there was such happiness and bliss after a couple generations between Allied and Warsaw Pact countries which were full of strife.
I remember a few Italian soldiers who shared their homemade wine with me
So technology has brought and end to 'yesteryears' way of life.
The cheap air travel, the speed which one can travel, both day and night,
Would've been beyond comprehension the latter part of the 19th century person.
What will travel look like 127 years hence?
Providing, world does end in December 21,2012.
Will it be supersonic travel at MACH 5*?
Will it be teleportation?
The future generations will see.

1-1-10
* 3200 mph/6080 kmph or you can go from Paris to New York in a matter of 2 hours.

poem by Joe Rosochacki
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The Good, The Bad and The Ugly

The bird of paradise to the vulture has said
I wonder what you do to find yourself a mate
You're the symbol of filth, rotting flesh you cherish
Your bare head, crooked beak embodies ugliness
You do not feed your young with 'freshly processed milk'
But do with foul substance that you regurgitate
Rotten, so obnoxious for a baby not fit
On your legs you defecate, so ill-mannered you are
Hurling your foul vomit is so abhorable

And the Cuckoo agreed, yes it is true my friend
You're but the epitome of ugliness and filth
Nobody wants to care for you, nobody really does
I will not marry you if I'm your kind and size

Well you have said it all, everything for my kind
But before you speak, you should first understand
That for anything I do there is logic behind
On our legs we defecate to kill the bacteria
That cling to our feet from our dining area
The juice just cools our feet when the weather is hot
Not only that, my friend, it's anticeptic wash
And the vomit I hurl, it serves a purpose well
A projectile we use, enemies to repel
You spoke so fast my friend, you did not ask before
who between you and me has the misdeeds the more
between the two of us, it's you I'm very sure
You listen well, my friend, to you I'll say them all

You are a lazy brat, own nest you do not make
Nor hatch your eggs, just find a mother surrogate
In the nest of others there you just dropp your egg
And then leave everything to your demonic ways
The surrogate mother doesn't seem to realize
That one egg in her clutch is a stranger and fake
The egg you laid on the usurped, coveted nest
Of the other eggs therein, hatches way much ahead
Your chick having been born to harm and to destroy
Shoves up the rightful eggs, off the nest jettisons
A sure untimely death when it touches the floor

And if the lawful eggs are the first ones to pip
The chicks will surely die when your evil chick emerges
Very fast it will grow, the right ones overtake
without pity mauls them all with a hooked beak
Bleeding bodies fall to earth, sure and gory death
After the crime the hook fall from the nasty beak
Beak of a bird so young but knows the art of death

In this community, of sanitation we're in charge
Disposal of the dead is our daily job
What happens if carrions are to rot everywhere
Disease and death spreads, you won't be spared my friend

More than I, you're the one guilty of felony
If I were you, scram, and lost I better be

And you, Beautiful Bird to Paradise back you go
To the forest where you belong, enjoy your fashion show

poem by Pacific Hernandez
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The Power Of Love

Oh, Love how great you are! .
What an amazing power you have?
How can I praise your grace,
You give us the strength and the joy full trace,
To go on living with a wide smile on face.

Oh, Love, may your glory ever survive.

How awesome are all that you make us pass through!
With you the lover's soul fly and feel blue,
Everything With your magic becomes beyond the true
.
How admiring all that you do!
Even the dead souls you cure,
With your power you give them birth,
And you become their dearest eart, !

poem by Sossi Khachadourian
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Dead And Broken

Too many things I've never spoken
I'm not feeling fine
I never told you what to do
I never made you a promise that you could hold me to
That'll be the day you see me crying
Everyday, I still say you're dead and broken
Everyday, I still say you're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
How many different faces can you show me?
How many times can you be right?
Another world of fantasy
Another reason for dramatizing everything
Taking it all in just one more time
I'm dying
Everyday, I still say you're dead and broken
Everyday, I still say you're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
Sorry to see that you're underestimated lately
I'd rather be dead and broken than living in your grace
Everyday, I still say you're dead and broken
Everyday, I still say you're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
You're dead and broken

song performed by Godsmack
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Heart Of God

Oooooo I'm really scared
Love and hate flared
-First act your tsunami-
The beauty of distraction
All sin's destruction

I am the sinner
Reflecting your mirror
Your clay's inner
My soul's sheerer

Owwwwe I'm really scared
Love and hate flared
-Second act your volcano-
Melting lava and sulfur air
Showing off your flair
The beauty of distraction
All sin's destruction

I am the sinner
Reflecting your mirror
Your clay's inner
My soul's sheerer

Ooooooo I'm really scared
Love and hate flared
-Third act your earthquake-
Dislodging all foundations
Fuming your frustrations
The beauty of distraction
All sin's destruction

I am the sinner
Reflecting your mirror
Your clay's inner
My soul's sheerer

Owwwwe I really don't care
For I am human
Therefore I am
The heart of God
You devil cannot dissolve
My faith's resolve
The beauty of distraction
All sin's destruction

I am the sinner
Reflecting your mirror
God's clay inner
My soul's sheerer

Copyright Leaking Pen 2012
September 16,2012

poem by leaking Pen
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The Assignment Sequence

Hendin
The assignment the assignment okay
Not too loud now not too loud
The song is called the assignment
Talks about the lover's gap
Tha gap between lovers
Especially in marriage and other forms
Bouncing off your wall
Tha pathways of my mind
Are on their way
Another way for today
You want me to see you
Baby I cannot see you
You want me to come for you
I cannot come for you
Cos you wany an assignment
I see no concession
Sall I hang my head with yours and be blue
Send alway laughter and fun
Spend all my time thinking about you
Don't you know there are things I can't do for you
My mind is on its way
Another way for today
My spirit is so foreign
You want silence
My spirit id taking flight now
But baby you're in a mood
And you wanna cry tonight now
Shall I hang my head with yours and be blue
That's what you want me to do
Send away laughter and fun
Spend my time crying
Trying to please you
Oh don't you know
There are things I can't do for you
My mind is on its way
Another way now for today

song performed by Nina Simone
Added by Lucian Velea
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Valentine's Day at the Whistle Stop Cafe (for my Granddaughter)

Your Valentine, my Grandma said, will be one who loves you true
He'll cook and clean and wash your smalls and not forget the blue.
Adored you'll be, my angel child, from morning until noon
He'll tease and tickle and paddle you, with love and an ice cream spoon.

Your Valentine, my Grandma said, will always let you speak
When he returns from work he'll smile and not let forth a squeak.
Admired you'll be, my angel child; he'll breakfast you in bed
Then after all the paddling's done, he'll stroke your pretty head.

Later........

My Valentine, Oh Granny dear - he said he loved me true
He never cooked and never cleaned nor thought about the blue
He snored, he did, Oh Granny dear - from morning until noon
Then had me bake a creme brulee whilst he licked the ice cream spoon.

My Valentine, Oh Granny dear - he never let me speak
He took me then he left me then he took me more each week.
He burped non stop, Oh Granny dear, and made noises in the bed
But still I love my Valentine, even now - without his head!

poem by Margaret Kollmer
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Come And Let Me Look In Your Eyes

(DenverHenry)
I guess growing isn't hard to do, just stand against the wall.
Once I was just two feet high, today I'm six feet tall.
But knowing who to listen to is something else again.
Words just whistle 'round my head like seasons in the wind.
All across the water, the clouds are sailing, they won't let me look at the sky.
All I want to do is try and find myself, come and let me look in your eyes.
In searching for the way to go, I've followed all the rules.
The way they say to choose between the wise men and the fools.
I listen to the words they say, I read what I should read.
I do whatever's right to do, try to be what I should be.
Someone let me in, I think the sky is falling, seems I've gotten lost on my way.
All I want to do is try and find myself, come and let me look in your eyes.
Oh, but wisdom isn't underground nor on a mountainside.
Where am I to take myself? There's no place here to hide, where can I hide?
All across the universe, the stars are fading. Seems we've gotten lost on our way.
All I want to do is try and find myself, come and let me look in your eyes.
Come and let me look in your eyes, come and let me look in your eyes.

song performed by John Denver
Added by Lucian Velea
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What's IN and What AINT Cool

To be considerate of others.
That's IN.
To be disrespectful on a daily basis?
That AINT cool.
Being there and caring with empathy expressed.
That's IN.
Self-centered people feeding greedy needs?
That AINT cool.
Calling someone or emailing, texting...
Or downloading a picture to send via computer.
That's IN.
Jealousy, envy, backstabbing...
And character assassinations?
That AINT cool.
In fact,
All that crap should be frozen!

What's IN and What AINT Cool,
Should be analyzed...
For the picking up of the good,
And the ditching that which is bad.
With a skipping over to a chapter of life,
That is lived for the harmony and joy of it!

What's IN and What AINT Cool?
Step and glide to the right side,
With the getting over of yourself.
Dry weepy eyes,
And leap into the light of a new dawn!
That's what's happening.
That's what's going on.
That's what's UP.
Leave that Down stuff on the ground,
And move!
Get up off your BUTT.
You 'feel' me?
You oughta.

Doin-The Sad Is My Life-Woe Is Me Shuffle,
Should be buckled up and muffled.
Locked to be blocked and stored to rust.
And blown away when it turns to dust.
Shutting lips with movement.
Now that's what's Hip.
You got it?

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Good Witch Of The North

You pull me down
To the floor
Of our apartment
A little while later
We are laughing at our
carpet burns
I like the way that it
glows outside
As the room gets darker
How I wish we could stay
like this
While the rest of the
world turns
There has never been a time
When I didn't want to be
your boyfriend
There has never been a time
When I didn't want to know
your name
Free falling from a work
in progress
Free falling from a life on hold
There has never been a time
When I didn't wanna hug you
Yes, my good lover
Is my one good thing
these days
You help me keep it all
From slipping away
I swear I'm going to
Marry you
Someday (someday)
I am all alone
And it seems like
All I do is wait
We spend hours on the phone
But it's never the same
No, nothing good ever does
come easy
Nothing good ever comes
without a fight
I am all alone
And I wish I was home
With you tonight
Yes, my good lover
Is my one good thing
these days
You help me keep it all
From slipping away
I swear I'm going to
Marry you
Someday
Yeah, my girlfriend is like
Magic in the hand
When I lose my sparkle
She's the one
that understands
I know I'm going to marry you
someday
I swear I'm going to marry you
someday
I swear I'm going to marry you...
Someday

song performed by Everclear
Added by Lucian Velea
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Love others and take them along in your great ship – Friendship

It was a blossom in my life otherwise a desert
To have a friend and to open up my heart
To exchange what I feel and to assert
In me a confidence that there is someone to support

My friendship is not only to exchange joy
Also it share moments that have potential to destroy
My mansion of pleasures and smooth convoy
That I came over them, efforts I did not deploy

My friendship is a flower of all season
It shows up colours, emits fragrance for no reason
It is all understanding and sharing in person
An effortless display of love beyond horizon

My friendship requires no exchange
Of greetings, cards or flowers in orange
It tells me what my friend feels even in strange
No words spoken and everything is known in all its range

My friendship is god given honour
It is a strength on which I can corner
All successes and go beyond the banner
At the same time I remain ever a happy runner

My friendship is to me so special
That I protect it, as I do my essential
It is a bond made of thought potential
Will stay lifetime with great credential

Come on, we need to understand friendship
It is a relation generated mainly on courtship
It is a thought-driven process built on partnership
So, love others and take them along in your great ship

poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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The Lesson From The Horse Race

There's no such thing as gallant loser and there's no glory in defeat
And coming first is all that matter and victory is always sweet
For the winning horse and jockey there's a mighty hip hooray
And the jockey he is smiling victory has made his day.

The stable lad leads in his winner he has never known such joy
And the owner pats his race horse as if to say well done me boy
And there's applause for the winning trainer from the large onlooking crowd
And the horse is centre of attention and those who backed him clapping loud.

Near by stands the beaten favourite held there by his stable lad
And with no trace of the horse's owner and the trainer looking sad
In a thrilling photo finish beaten into second place
But he get little recognition for running such a splendid race.

Human life is like the horse race at winning post you've got to lead
Losers are quickly forgotten and to be loved you must succeed
You must strive hard for your glory and if you fail in your vital test
You too will be quick forgotten as winners are remembered best

And there's a lesson from the horse race and it read plain for all to see
If you live for admiration go for outright victory
And you will be the main attraction and all the applause will be for you
And like the poor defeated race horse there will be none for number two.

poem by Francis Duggan
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We Can Start All Over Again

Writers: leo sayer, bruce roberts & tom snow
Oo babe, what can I say to you
Change what youre feelin inside?
Oo babe, Ive got to get close to you
Please dont cast me aside
You know I hate to see you lookin so sad
I cant stand to watch this good love go bad
Lets stop and think about the good times that we had
We can start it all (start it all) all over again
And we can have it all (have it all) just a one more time
We can start it all (start it all) all over again, oo, oo, oo, oo
Oo babe, dont look that way at me
You know youre breakin my heart
Oo babe, Im as sorry as I can be
Dont let this tear us apart
Now lets forget about the tears that we cried
Its gone, there aint nothin to hide
Come on baby, why cant we give it one more try?
We can start it all (start it all) all over again
And we can have it all (have it all) just a one more time
We can start it all (start it all) all over again, oo, oo, oo, oo
Just think about it babe, oo, oo, oo, oo
Just think about it babe
Oo baby, I acted like a fool
You just trust me baby and Ill make it up to you
I see your smiles returnin
I know you understand
Come on baby
All you got to do is take my hand
I love you baby, were gonna start it all again
Well have it down like nothin before, ah
One more time, we can start it all (start it all) all over again
We can have it all (have it all) yeah evrything
We can start it all (start it all) all over again
We can have it all (have it all) yeah everything

song performed by Leo Sayer
Added by Lucian Velea
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A Star In The East

FOR THE ART EXHIBITION AT ST. JUDE'S, WHITECHAPEL

LIKE a fair flower springing fresh, sweet, and bright,
Through prison stones; or like one perfect song
Heard in a dream on one remembered night,
When waking worlds were dumb with grief and wrong;
Like the one kiss that links--first kiss and last--
The inevitable future spent apart
With the immutable divided past:
So in the east shines out this star of Art.

The narrow-shouldered, pale-faced girl and boy
Nestle against Art's new-found, love-warm breast,
And feel vague stirrings of a far-off joy,
Which life has never for themselves possessed,
And dimly guess at wonders hardly known--
Even as dreams--and weep glad tears to see
A loveliness that is at once life's own,
And yet is something life can never be.

Not worse will work the flying busy hand
Because the soul has drunk a cup of pleasure,
Has picked up on its leaden-coloured strand
Some little jewel of Art's splendid treasure,
Nor will less work be done because men see
That work is not the only thing in life,
Because they have been glad at heart and free
A little space 'mid sorrow, sin, and strife.

And this sweet draught may banish men's content?
For this we pray and strive--not all in vain--
That men may reach such heights of discontent
As never to fall back to peace again
Where no peace is--nor rest from strife and prayers,
But tread firm-footed up the thorny way,
Till all that spring of art and joy is theirs
Whereof they taste so small a draught to-day.

poem by Edith Nesbit
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The Priests of Ireland

YOU have waited, Priests of Ireland, until the hour was late:
You have stood with folded arms until 'twas asked—Why do they wait?
By the fever and the famine you have seen your flocks grow thin,
Till the whisper hissed through Ireland that your silence was a sin.
You have looked with tearless eyes on fleets of exile-laden ships,
And the hands that stretched toward Ireland brought no tremor to your lips;
In the sacred cause of freedom you have seen your people band,
And they looked to you for sympathy: you never stirred a hand;
But you stood upon the altar, with their blood within your veins,
And you bade the pale-faced people to be patient in their chains!
Ah, you told them—it was cruel—but you said they were not true
To the holy faith of Patrick, if they were not ruled by yon;
Yes, you told them from the altar—they, the vanguard of the Faith—
With your eyes like flint against them—that their banding was a death—
Was a death to something holy: till the heart-wrung people cried
That their priests had turned against them—that they bad no more a guide—
That the English gold had bought you—yes, they said it— but they lied!

Yea, they lied, they sinned, not knowing you—they had not gauged your love:
Heaven bless you, Priests of Ireland, for the wisdom from above,
For the strength that made you, loving them, crush back the tears that rose
When your country's heart was quiv'ring 'neath the statesman's muffled blows:
You saw clearer far than they did, and you grieved for Ireland's pain;
But you did not rouse the people—and your silence was their gain;
For too often has the peasant dared to dash his naked arm
'Gainst the saber of the soldier: but you shielded him from harm,
And your face was set against him—though your heart was with his hand
When it flung aside the plow to snatch a pike for fatherland!

O, God bless you, Priests of Ireland! You were waiting with a will,
Yon were waiting with a purpose when you bade your flocks be still;
And you preached from off your altars not alone the Word Sublime,
But your silence preached to Irishmen—'Be patient: bide your time!'
And they heard you. and obeyed, as well as outraged men could do:—
Only some, who loved poor Ireland, but who erred in doubting you,
Doubting yon, who could not tell them why you spake the strange behest—
You, who saw the day was coming when the moral strength was best—
You, whose hearts were sore with looking on your country's quick decay—
You, whose chapel seats were empty and your people fled away—
You, who marked amid the fields where once the peasant's cabin stood—
You, who saw your kith and kindred swell the emigration flood—
You, the soggarth in the famine, and the helper in the frost—
You, whose shadow was a sunshine when all other hope was lost—
Yes, they doubted—and you knew it—but you never said a word;
Only preached, ' Be still: be patient!'' and, thank God, your voice was heard.
Now, the day foreseen is breaking—it has dawned upon the land,
And the priests still preach in Ireland: do they bid their flocks disband!
Do they tell them still to suffer and be silent? No! their words
Flash from Dublin Bay to Connaught, brighter than the gleam of swords!
Flash from Donegal to Kerry, and from Waterford to Clare,
And the nationhood awaking thrills the sorrow-laden air.
Well they judged their time—they waited till the bar was glowing white,
Then they swung it on the anvil, striking down with earnest might,
And the burning sparks that scatter lose no luster on their way,
Till five million hearts in Ireland and ten millions faraway
Feel the first good blow, and answer; and they will not rest with one:
Now the first is struck, the anvil shows the labor well begun;
Swing them in with lusty sinew and the work will soon be done!
Let them sound from hoary Cashel; Kerry, Meath, and Ross stand forth;
Let them ring from Cloyne and Tuam and the Primate of the North;
Ask not class or creed: let 'Ireland! ' be the talismanic word;
Let the blessed sound of unity from North to South be heard;
Came the words: 'No creed distinctions!' on O'Connell's granite tomb,
And his dust will feel their meaning and rekindle in the gloom.
Priest to priest, to sound the summons—and the answer, man to man;
With the people round the standard, and the prelates in the van.
Let the heart of Ireland's hoping keep this golden rule of Cloyne
Till the Orange fades from Berry and the shadow from the Boyne.
Let the words be carried outward till the farthest lands they reach:
'After Christ, their country's freedom do the Irish prelates preach!'

poem by John Boyle O'Reilly
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1 and 6 Add Up To Your Love

1 and 6 add up to your love,
And like a sleeping volcano waiting for a companion! !
But this garden of love needs some water,
So be ready to water it all day long.

Prophesied,
Wonder,
Rendering;
But 1 and 6 add up to your love,
And like a realistic fruit of love on your first kiss' scene.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Chant to Bolivar

Our Father thou art in Heaven,
in water, in air
in all our silent and broad latitude
everything bears your name, Father in our dwelling:
your name raises sweetness in sugar cane
Bolivar tin has a Bolivar gleam
the Bolívar bird flies over the Bolivar volcano
the potato, the saltpeter, the special shadows,
the brooks, the phosphorous stone veins
everything comes from your extinguished life
your legacy was rivers, plains, bell towers
your legacy is our daily bread, oh Father.

poem by Pablo Neruda
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Oh, Love!

Oh, Love how great you are! .
What an amazing power you have?
How can I praise your grace,
You give us the strength and the joy full trace,
To go on living with a wide smile on the face.

Oh, Love, may your glory ever survive.

How awesome are all that you make us pass through!
With you the lover's soul fly and feel blue,
Everything With your magic becomes beyond the true
.
How admiring all that you do!
Even the dead souls you cure,
With your power you give them birth,
And you become their dearest eart, !

poem by Sossi Khachadourian
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And I write this on your white tomb with a piece of charcoal

When I see the twilight sky
I think of you and your poem paintings!
When I hear a bird's chirping faraway
on a tree, I count your unsung poems?
Whenever I pass burial grounds
I believe that you're still alive
and write?
But you're gone and it's certain.
Do you remember we made a promise once
That one of us do our Epitaph?
Yes, it's my turn and I write this
on your white tomb with a piece of charcoal
and who writes on mine in your absence?

I dedicate this poem to the celebrated poet Khalil Gibran for his love letters!

nimal dunuhinga

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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