ANSWERS: 5
  • "Through the travail of Ages, amidst the pomp and toils of war, have I fought, and strove, and perished, countless times, upon a star. As if through a glass, and darkly, the age-old strife I see. For I have fought in many guises, many names, but always me." - Geo. S Patton.
  • Inspiring in what way? Mmm... the one that inspired me to devote a sizeable amount of my time (and money - poetry books can be expensive) was Wodwo by Ted Hughes. I think the return on the onvestment has been more than worth it. :)
  • THE MAN IN THE GLASS by Dale Wimbrow When you get what you want in your struggle for self And the world makes you king for a day, Just go to a mirror and look at yourself And see what THAT man has to say. For it isn't your father or mother or wife Whose judgment upon you must pass, The fellow whose verdict counts most in your life Is the one staring back from the glass. Some people might think you're a straight-shootin' chum And call you a wonderful guy. But the man in the glass says you're only a bum If you can't look him straight in the eye. He's the fellow to please, never mind all the rest, For he's with you clear to the end, And you've passed your most dangerous test If the guy in the glass is your friend. You may fool the whole world down the pathway of years And get pats on the back as you pass, But your final reward will be heartache and tears If you've cheated the man in the glass.
  • Lower East Side by Miguel Pinero
  • Death Inspires and Conspires Forever. From the day we are born death conspires, following us from the cradle to the grave, There is nowhere to run and hide from life, not even our memories can be saved. Death conspires we all see on the news, a starving baby and a man shot in the street, No sugar coated lies or sky high dreams, there is nothing left that's considered sweet. Death conspires when a mountain climber falls, when a bodega clerk gets left in a pool of blood, Mothers mourn after their sons grab a phone, Angels cry when his name's dragged through the mud. Humans for peace get slaughtered in the name of a god, barely scratching the surface of ingrained hatred, Put there by Satan even before the Earth was formed, death conspires and forever will not be sated. Death conspired even as I wrote this poem, Death conspires,can our God lead us home? ........The Bannibal One.... byeeexxx.

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