Best People Poems

The night is beautiful,
So the faces of my people.

The stars are beautiful,
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Part One


The power of charity sows deep in my heart, and I reap and gather the wheat in bundles and give them to the hungry.
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Does it matter? -losing your legs?
For people will always be kind,
And you need not show that you mind
When others come in after hunting
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People expect old men to die,
They do not really mourn old men.
Old men are different. People look
At them with eyes that wonder when…
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The gold-hoarder walked in his palace park and with him walked his troubles. And over his head hovered worries as a vulture hovers over a carcass, until he reached a beautiful lake surrounded by magnificent marble statuary.

He sat there pondering the water which poured from the mouths of the statues like thoughts flowing freely from a lover's imagination, and contemplating heavily his palace which stood upon a knoll like a birth-mark upon the cheek of a maiden. His fancy revealed to him the pages of his life's drama which he read with falling tears that veiled his eyes and prevented him from viewing man's feeble additions to Nature.
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There are two kinds of people on earth to-day;
Just two kinds of people, no more, I say.

Not the sinner and saint, for it's well understood,
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Michael Jackson, the Thriller, Died

Life is unfair
To those who dare
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I sit in the dark corner all day long
Just writing my life's song
Why am i always so confused?
Why does everything wrong happen to me?
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People who have what they want are very fond of telling people who haven't what they want that they really don't want it,
And I wish I could afford to gather all such people into a gloomy castle on the Danube and hire half a dozen capable Draculas to haunt it.
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One day people will touch and talk perhaps
easily,
And loving be natural as breathing and warm as
sunlight,
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The sound of laughter is a thing of beauty for laughter spreads the very gift of joy
That people they are drawn to happy people is not that hard for to understand why
Since everybody wishes to be happy and laughter it spreads happiness around
And only the heartless could not like the sound of laughter for laughter is a very happy sound,
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A prince stood on the balcony of his palace addressing a great multitude summoned for the occasion and said, "Let me offer you and this whole fortunate country my congratulations upon the birth of a new prince who will carry the name of my noble family, and of whom you will be justly proud. He is the new bearer of a great and illustrious ancestry, and upon him depends the brilliant future of this realm. Sing and be merry!" The voices of the throngs, full of joy and thankfulness, flooded the sky with exhilarating song, welcoming the new tyrant who would affix the yoke of oppression to their necks by ruling the weak with bitter authority, and exploiting their bodies and killing their souls. For that destiny, the people were singing and drinking ecstatically to the heady of the new Emir.

Another child entered life and that kingdom at the same time. While the crowds were glorifying the strong and belittling themselves by singing praise to a potential despot, and while the angels of heaven were weeping over the people's weakness and servitude, a sick woman was thinking. She lived in an old, deserted hovel and, lying in her hard bed beside her newly born infant wrapped with ragged swaddles, was starving to death. She was a penurious and miserable young wife neglected by humanity; her husband had fallen into the trap of death set by the prince's oppression, leaving a solitary woman to whom God had sent, that night, a tiny companion to prevent her from working and sustaining life.
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My wearied heart bade me farewell and left for the House of Fortune. As he reached that holy city which the soul had blessed and worshipped, he commenced wondering, for he could not find what he had always imagined would be there. The city was empty of power, money, and authority.

And my heart spoke to the daughter of Love saying, "Oh Love, where can I find Contentment? I heard that she had come here to join you."
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Although the human mind has been divided into conscious, subconscious and unconscious today, yet the man had already been existing and his mind, too. Freud was of the view that he did not exactly invent the idea of unconscious mind because poets and philosophers were already familiar with it. He said that he had only presented its theory in psychological terms. According to Freud, the poetry comes into existence on account of regression and sublimation of unsatisfied longings. On regression of these conscious desires, the subcoscious and uncoscious minds apparently become symbols of sabotage but on sublimation they transform into creative subconscious and creative uncoscious respectively. It is either as the peaceful use of neuclear energy or as to irrigate the far flung barren lands from a large dam. When Plato said that even an expert of Poetic Technique could not create great poetry without intuitive insanity, he wanted to say that the poet could not depend on his conscious mind only because the source of superior creations is afterall the unconscious, the backyard of mind. Since then people have been considering the poets to be abnormal. You may call it insanity or licentiousness or poetic spell or revelation or intuition or poetic inspiration. On the other hand, a genius who is also seen at the last footstep of conscious, mostly depends upon his intuition. Therefore he is also considered to be abnormal. A litrary genius seldom turns to be normal but as a human being his best creative faculties operate during the most normal moments of his life. These are intellectual moments indeed. The analysis of revelation or intuition shows that it operates in two modes. In first mode, a totally untouched thought steps into conscious all of a sudden. It is usually considered similar to electric lightning. Therefore poets, mystics, even scientists, all are aware of it. While the second mode is more common which is also understood by people having non creative mind. This is called productive thinking and it is placed second to intuition. For example, a forgotten name or face or event comes into conscious suddenly during half-asleep. The first mode is related to unconscious while the second mode is related to subconscious. The subconscious is more important in both. In first mode, the unconscious is raised upto the level of subconscious. While in the second mode subconscious is itself a source of information. First mode is usually named as Poetic Inspiration while second as Poetic Imagination. A stream of thoughts begins to flow from subconscious towards conscious in both modes. Where in a trance-like state, the creator and his creation become two peas in a pod. At the end of the process when he observes his creation for the first time, it is no more a part of his subjective process but now he studies it objectively and makes modifications and additions in it. Thus he observes his creation as its first listener and critic, and tries to analyse what he has listened during intuition. In the first mode creative unconscious is responsible for the subjective process and creative conscious is resposible for the objective one. Likewise in the second mode creative subcoscious is responsible for the subjective process and creative conscious is responsible for the objective one. The creative conscious comes into existence by mastering the Poetic Technique. In fact, the functions of creative unconscious, creative subconscious, and creative conscious are so intercombined that they can not be isolated from one another. They are collectively known as Poetic Sense. In general terms Poetic Technique, Poetic Imagination and Poetic Inspiration are collectively called Poetic Sense.
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This is the life which is full of care,
Persons like this attitude are found rare.
Tolerance is too difficult to bear in body,
Such persons are there to speak truth ready.
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I do not look for holy saints to guide me on my way,
Or male and female devilkins to lead my feet astray.
If these are added, I rejoice---if not, I shall not mind,
So long as I have leave and choice to meet my fellow-kind.
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America, you ode for reality!
Give back the people you took.

Let the sun shine again
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In the Book of God (Ilahi-nama) 'Attar framed his mystical teachings in various stories that a caliph tells his six sons, who are kings themselves and seek worldly pleasures and power.
The first son is captivated by a virgin princess, and his father tells him the adventures of a beautiful and virtuous woman who attracts several men but miraculously survives their abuse and then forgives them. They acknowledge that carnal desire is necessary to propagate the race but also recognize that passionate love can lead to spiritual love, which can annihilate the soul in the beloved.
Other stories indicate the importance of respecting the lives of other creatures such as ants or dogs. One only thinks oneself better than a dog because of one's dog-like nature.
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The feelings I don't have I don't have.
The feeling I don't have, I won't say I have.
The feelings you say you have, you don't have.
The feelings you would like us both to have, we neither of us have.
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People treat me like dirt with
Judged envy, but I stand
With confidence.
People called my beauty
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Happiness is state of the mind not a feel
many people believe happiness is not real
people say you can reach it but you have to work for it
i believe happiness is here but you just dont know it
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All people dream, but not equally.
Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their mind,
Wake in the morning to find that it was vanity.
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People in a hall that’s lit so brightly
It hurts
Spoke of religion
In the lives of contemporary people
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People that build their houses inland,
People that buy a plot of ground
Shaped like a house, and build a house there,
Far from the sea-board, far from the sound
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survival animal at any cost falling from cliff top height
to break broken crushed lost was not humanities destiny
but humanity has applied this hunting technique repeatedly
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The innate gift to see the lost souls
An ability looking the ghosts
Can vision what’s in dreams
Can interpret the shade and shadows of the unseen
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Some people want to die
Some people want to live
Some people want to take
Some people want to give
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Just smile for the world ….
The world is wide and beautiful if you look with satisfaction

Just smile for the people
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Life is full of challenges
Which people do face
Life comes and goes
Just as the season changes
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'Of the people
By the people
For the people'
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The People of the Eastern Ice, they are melting like the snow--
They beg for coffee and sugar; they go where the white men go.
The People of the Western Ice, they learn to steal and fight;
They sell their furs to the trading-post; they sell their souls to
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Why does mankind hate people based on religion and race?
Is it ignorance, education, or governments deciding our place.

For people are people regardless of the color of their face.
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In a holy land, with a strange feeling
A strange and calm feeling that comes from the heart of people
People who live pure, people who are valuable and kind
People who are great and faithful, men and women with beautiful minds
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In scenery I like flat country.
In life I don’t like much to happen.
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As history is made in the American elections
The world watches with disbelief and fascination.
Some one asked me, is it good for our nation?
Rejoice, people are overcoming racial discrimination.
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People from different places come to America
They have different backgrounds and have different skin
But they are in America
They should be accepted, even if their from Berlin
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Indeed, I want in my heart to become a person who is quite well-off materially and essentially happy. Not grandiose, enough to have a luxury car and house, a beautiful wife, high degrees in the office, have the title of professor, children who study abroad.
That might be my wishes, but maybe if I saw that desire I would consider myself pathological. However, life doesn't need stability anyway.
Life can be lived only with happiness. But I will sneer at you with the words 'eat that happiness' because the people who say that are only envious, envious, spiteful people and their friends. Do you know that shirk is a sign of being unable.
I have to look for media that is appropriate, effective and efficient to find that there is indeed a woman who loves to be loved. Regardless of status, stratification, orientation, religion and ethnicity. However I am aware that at this time I am not yet well established materialistically and academically, but if there is, who knows, someone will want to be with me.
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Father today I want to pray for all the different people in the world. People that may not be the best looking, or have eyes that bulge, teeth that point, big ears or crippled joints. People of colour, from the very dark to palest of pale, the little people, the big people. Anyone that is different Lord, today is their day and for them I pray.

Father, please take the narrow minded, the bully's and name callers to task. Teach them to look beyond the facial masks and disfigured bodies, teach them to see what is truly real, to discover how truly beautilful these people are. Show them Lord how much these wonderful people contrilbute to the world.
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While people walks to the right
Weirdo runs to the left side

While people inters in
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I want to live in a world,
where I can smile,
I want to live in a world,
where I can cry,
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Less and less people
Seem to care
About each other
And more about their
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what do people see when they look at me? ? This is the question that goes through my mind all the time. Do they only see what's on the outside or do they see whats deep within?
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Some people want to die
some people want to live
some people want to take
some people want to give
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Moments happy moments
people think about them
people write about them
people talk about them
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Some people have a childhood garden
Filled with green and growing things
Some people have a childhood garden
Filled with purple peonies
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This is my best poem of Afzal Shauq and I think that friendship is one of the most important things in life. A person should have have many friends, but only one or two to be his best. A best friend must control the heart and mind too.The best way to win hearts is friendly or loving smile as the poet of this poem says.

Friends shouldn't be sad of each others on each single thing, or else they will bored then separated or fight. They should love the bad things in every one of them so that they can correct it or make it better later on.
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Slayers of happy thoughts
Slayers of free will
People who just wait
for you to have a fall
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I join these words for four people,
Some others may overhear them,
O world, I am sorry for you,
You do not know these four people.
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RED, white, blue, the flag that leads us on,
Stripes as red as blood well shed by many a hero gone.
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Snow is the frozen drop of water falling to ground,
It falls from the sky as small white flakes bound.
It is gift of nature that does well or harm,
It is used to remove pain in waist and arm.
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Stay alive

Because you have to do
Not only for your kids
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What An Awful Irony
April 29, 2024

All are saying for Palestine
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One by one
people you love
walk away.
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Father once again I come to you to ask yet for more blessings. Oh Lord is there no end to what I ask for. Each day new problems, new heartaches, more devistation, molestations, murders, drug use is increasing instead of decreasing.
Father God people are forgetting their purpose in life, they are lost. Father many years ago, your son asked you to forgive them for they know not what they do. Father when will they know what they're doing.
I have a difficult time Father looking at the news and reading of unnecessary killings, of a body found in close proximity, a body missing the head and very badly beaten. Father God what kind of a person does this. Satan is so busy and still finding a following. I'm
concerned at the minds that he is still able to poison.
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Don’t cry for me Africa
Because I will never let you out of my mind
I hear your voices people of Africa
I hear your cries people of Africa
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I speak of a country by the Niger river,
I speak of a people, forlorn yet jocund.
I speak of a nation, innumerable like the stars in the galaxy.
I speak of a people, gifted by Mother nature, cursed by the gods.
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“A poet is a lunatic—
Beware! ”
This is what I encounter
Each day.
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When along the pavement,
Palpitating flames of life,
People flicker round me,
I forget my bereavement,
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Walking down the path of life,
A path often hard, uphill and difficult
I meet people who walk by my side
Some of them choose to touch me
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Some people shoot up tall.
Some hardly leave the ground at all.
Yet-people equal. Equal.
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Can a good person give his lover grief
If he himself possesses all the powers?
Can a good person make his lover mortal
If he himself is immortal?
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You say, "Love is in your mind"
But to love people you do not find,
"Democracy is the best"
But in it you have no taste,
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Unified in Diversity.
That's what people today should be.
Humans embracing harmony and happiness.
Hope that flowers from the seed,
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Like moths many nations rushing towards and playing with
Nuclear fire not realizing that it will destroy them and
All others making the very existence of the world a dream!
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In your life, there are lots of special people
They are your friends and family
They care for you, they help you
Whenever they can
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No wonder If I say You are the most beautiful city of the world Among the other ones. You are the land of goodness and Prosperity. You are the queen of the east and the The rare diamond that shines For ever where The Arabian Gulf runs. You are hugging all flowers, all roses, all plants, And all fragrance
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There was a land where lived no violets.
A traveller at once demanded : 'Why?'
The people told him:
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A society that judges people by
The scale of material wealth
Has no heart.
It leads people to hate
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The bitter truth of this life is dark
Even when people from noble profession
When raises their hand for sustenance
In actuality they are praying
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Should people tell
when they know something is not right
should people tell
when they know it for a fact
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As you pour yourself a scotch
Crush a roach or check your watch
As your hands adjust your tie people die
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When Good People Become Friends
Things work better.
Things work together
Things work out.
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Two or three angels
Came near to the earth.
They saw a fat church.
Little black streams of people
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People walk, people talk.
Count the seconds, on the clock.
People share, people stare.
Most just act, like they don't care.
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When shall we learn to know
People around us?
Not by their name
But as ‘human' same.
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Dressing in fashion will be called vain,
And they'll call you a dowdey [sic] if you are plain ;
But do what is right, lot that be the test
Then proudly hold up your head with the best-
For people will talk.
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Kalandar, the Sufi saint

The bomb blast caused panic
It is holy shrine with no relic
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People who are afraid of themselves
Multiply themselves into families
And so divide themselves
And so become less afraid.
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1. It is better by far to never have loved at all then to have loved and had your heart shattered beyond all repair even once.

2. There are some people God never answers prayers for simply because they're just not that important to him anyway.
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To the children looking for calm sleep
To the people who loves humanity from deep

The people who are tired of the today’s wars,
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What do you have to say
On this day
In the month of April and May
Everybody is gay
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Participation

Your involvement or participation
In any festival for celebration
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When I go into town at half past seven
Great crowds of people stream across the ways,
Hurrying, although it's only half past seven.
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The people have drunk the wine of peace
In the streets of town.
They smile as they drift with hearts at rest
Uphill and down.
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We all walk like everything is fine,
But we all know we are all mad,
Mad at the world,
Mad at are friends,
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How can we live when people are dying?
How can we laugh when children are crying?
How can we refuse them a chance when their trying?
How can we hear the truth when everyone’s lying?
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In Short What Is In The Poem Mediterranean Girl's War Phobia
May 5, 2023

The poem "Mediterranean Girl's War Phobia" is a wake-up call by the poet. The poem observes the world and the nature of inhumanity taking place, especially in the Gulf regions. Notably, these countries have been in constant fights. As a result, people have died, others have migrated to safer areas, and several other impacts felt. The poet realizes the effects these wars bring to the environment, such as pollution resulting from the heavy ammunition and war weapons used. Meanwhile, the 21st century has brought a different kind of civilization that is desirable for any society. In the wake of this, the poet hopes for a transformation to end all these confrontations and form a peaceful block with no unrest.
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III,3
At the Assembley of the People. Enters CAIUS ELPIDIUS MARULLUS.

MARULLUS: Romans, I could kill Caesar but I did not it. There was a conspiration, I did not oppose it. Caesar was my master of life and not of death. Fate won him and we must leave their decision to gods. However I came to a decision. I shall exercise my right of veto: the law of the immunity for the parricides will be rejected. At our feast the Roman women were running down and up to Lupercals with their
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Markaz
Murderer of human values,
Arrogant people of ignorance,
Radical ideals of dissolution,
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The beauty of temple

The beauty of temple lies
In its existence
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Hello

Hello Roopa, * how are you?
We miss you here
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I wanna live in a world with no such thing as fear.
Where all people are honest and truly sincere
Where people don't hurt you.
There's not reason to cry
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'SHE is dead!' they say; 'she is robed for the grave; O there are lilies upon her breast;
Her mother has kissed her clay-cold lips, and folded her hands to rest;
Her blue eyes show through the waxen lids: they have hidden her hair's gold crown;
Her grave is dug, and its heap of earth is waiting to press her down.'
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On that day
Babies were born
Elderly died
Flowers bloomed
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ULLALIM, THE EPIC OF LOVE OF THE MADUCAYAN
By Melvin Banggollay Jr.

An ullalim epic is a traditional music and poetry form of the Philippines. These are long chanted stories passed down for hundreds of years that tell the exploits of heroes. They are classics of the Malayo-Polynesian language family. The most skilled poets would memorize epic cycles that took two to four days to recite during all-night dramatic performances. Two examples of precolonial (before the Spanish came) epics that survive today are Biag ni Lam-ang (Legend of Lamang) in Ilocano (a northern Luzon dialect) and Ibalon in Bicol (a southern Luzon dialect) . The term ullalim is sometimes used today to refer to that style of song, but the real ullalim is the epic poem of the Kalinga people. An article I read says that the singer would dress up in brilliant, flashy clothes like the hero described in the story.
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When wilt Thou save the people?
O God of mercy! when?
Not kings and lords, but nations!
Not thrones and crowns, but men!
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