Quotes about corrode, page 2
Not To Me And Not To Us..
The virgin vitriol can corrode everything, but not me,
The rowdy rain can wet the earth and fill her cavities,
The rogue sun can scorch to burn the leaves and buds,
The monstrous ocean may wake up to rape the land,
Thunderous darkened clouds may send lightening arrows,
Brewed malt, wheat and rice may look like women,
Smoked cannabis and weeds may seem to be men,
This world's pleasure can accumulate itself,
And wait for itself to be scooped as a cup cake,
The evil fragrance of choicest flowers filled in the canisters,
To be sprayed and may be marketed as sinister,
But not to me, not to us and not to people with confidence,
To say no to the ills and evils of the societies and nations..
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Of Stabbings Deepest
in a yearning profound, creeping deep within
an ache, intangible, flushes my skin
swept through its current of associations vague
my heart beset with the looming of a plague
as glimpses of my surroundings corrode
drowned by the flashes of a deathly untold
introducing themselves as mere daydreams
these most strenuous, utterly silent screams.
and I was gone for a while there, I was.
over ancient gilded arousals am I to cherish,
when what pertains now has yet to perish?
and if the ironic has dawned not
lest I awaken to the fact being taught:
nostalgia hovers below, like a cloud-shaped ghost
it lurks, solemnly, in the abyss of a remembering
for any frail soul, ruminant, desperately longing to host
through sapping subside; the prolongation of its haunting.
poem by Chris Jelens
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His Monument
Horace: Book III, Ode 30
"Exegi monumentum aere perennius---"
The monument that I have built is durable as brass,
And loftier than the Pyramids which mock the years that pass.
No blizzard can destroy it, nor furious rain corrode--
Remember, I'm the bard who built the first Horatian Ode.
I shall not altogether die; a part of me's immortal.
A part of me shall never pass the mortuary portal;
And when I die my fame shall stand the nitric test of time--
The fame of me of lowly birth, who built the lofty rhyme!
Ay, fame shall be my portion when no trace there is of me,
For I first madeÆolian songs the songs of Italy.
Accept I pray, Melpomene, my modest meed of praise,
And crowm my thinning, graying locks with wreathes of Delphic bays!
poem by Franklin P. Adams
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Bulletproof
Hey, it's me. Got a kevlar vest ornating my chest,
Walking a battlefield, with scars only partly healed.
Bullets and rockets explode, as the dead's bones corrode.
But I got a kevlar vest ornating my chest.
Hey! Got nothing to fear right? I walk the alleys at night.
I'm a gun-toting machine, stop me if you can!
Bulletproof, gun in hand, tis this an invincible man?
But did I tell you where I've got most my scars?
They're under my kevlar vest ornating my chest.
Deep and hard, some still bleeding, jagged scars.
Many bullets have hit, but few through could they get.
So now you ask, from where are those scars you mask?
Most of my scars are on my back, the sad fact:
I'm bulletproof, but the knives still go through.
Got a kevlar vest ornating my chest, might be bulletproof, but the knives still go through.
Bulletproof...
poem by Joses Tirtabudi
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Echo to Him Who Complains
O FLY thee from the shades of night,
Where the loud tempests yelling rise;
Where horrror wings her sullen flight
Beneath the bleak and lurid skies.
As the pale light'ning swiftly gleams
O'er the scorch'd wood, thy well-known form
More radiant than an angel seems,
Contending with the ruthless storm.
I see the scowling witch, DESPAIR
Drink the big tear that scalds thy cheek;
While thro' the dark and turbid air,
The screams of haggard ENVY break.
From the cold mountain's flinty steep,
I hear the dashing waters roar;
Ah! turn thee, turn thee, cease to weep,
Thou hast no reason to deplore.
[...] Read more
poem by Mary Darby Robinson
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From Virginia To Paris
The polecat, sovereign of its native wood,
Dashes damnation upon bad and good;
The health of all the upas trees impairs
By exhalations deadlier than theirs;
Poisons the rattlesnake and warts the toad
The creeks go rotten and the rocks corrode!
She shakes o'er breathless hill and shrinking dale
The horrid aspergillus of her tail!
From every saturated hair, till dry,
The spargent fragrances divergent fly,
Deafen the earth and scream along the sky!
Removed to alien scenes, amid the strife
Of urban odors to ungladden life
Where gas and sewers and dead dogs conspire
The flesh to torture and the soul to fire
Where all the 'well defined and several stinks'
Known to mankind hold revel and high jinks
Humbled in spirit, smitten with a sense
Of lost distinction, leveled eminence,
[...] Read more
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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Tin Man
I know the tin man feels pain.
Sees the sun cry in the rain.
Knows the leaves miss the trees
With every Autumn breeze.
I know the scarecrow
Stands forever in slumber.
One sunrise
And his blue sky will be revealed.
He'll walk away
That Summer's day
To leave an empty field.
And every down and out will hope.
And the lion we are will cope,
And not shy away.
When our hearts are torn
Our dreams won't stray
Too far.
And isolate,
Vegitate
Crying that our stars expire too soon.
[...] Read more
poem by Kevin East
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Dust Child
Come child sleep here by my side
Come child breathe your lungs a little while
Come child sleep here by my side
Come child to your surrender
Sleepwalking angel
Travel through a lonely house
Inspire hollow
Sadly follow
Your way to find me here
Come child sleep here by my side
Come child breathe your lungs a little more
Come child sleep here by my side
Come child to your surrender
Let dust settle
As blankets for your sleep
The skin tremble form the cold
Slowly'll corrode
[...] Read more
poem by Daniel Oliveira
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Hide 'N' Seek
Between the moon‘n'cloud, the hedge‘n'flower, the lightning‘n' thunder,
Each playing on the other's fervor, suffering's a virtue they honor,
Bound together, confident of the other, in thrill of a boundless chase,
In the rhythm of touch ‘n' go, with a limitless thirst for an embrace,
Happy -destined to be a plaything, return for assurance, yet stall,
But mortal we remain. To love that well, break the spell, let fall,
A sign, or the year's disguises-glimpses, shall stand in between & rout
In the dust of meetings ‘n' partings, we corrode away in doubt,
Like a stricken deer, pursuer out of sight, loses purpose in its gait,
Why must one hide and the other always seek, settle for a toss of fate?
Play not with my heart, it may not shatter or break,
Lose me not to habit, it may simply lose the power to ache
Miracles they can believe in, under his celestial sky, we make it a little easier.
To them, time says it's merciful, I still vouch—''No! You Are''.
poem by Seema joglekar
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The Religious Terror and the Horror of Drug Addiction
The Religious Terror and the Horror of Drug Addiction
The ghouls of religious terror
eat the corpses of the poorfolk
shot by the guns or got into the fireball
of the blasting suicide-bombers,
from India to Iraq, the lands
trodden on by Alexander, the Great.
Those who are poor in education and gold,
ought to be born and bred as patriots
and die as martyrs in the lands where they are.
When we visit the nations of the whites
we goggle our eyes seeing the drugs-taken,
men and women kiss and embrace in open
with their children following their trail and smiling.
The drug addicts scare the people in their houses,
and at times jump down into the rivers and die,
along with their children to shock the world.
Broken life leads them to consume drugs
[...] Read more
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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