Life is a journey I don't have a map for.
quote by Delta Goodrem
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The Journey (feat. Lateef)
That journey-a call me quick,
That journey-a call my name,
That journey-a call have it's way,
an' have me wonderin' all my days
That journey-a call me quick,
That journey-a call my name,
That journey-a call have it's way,
an' have me wonderin' all my days.
I can't stay home, I gotta keep movin,
I gotta keep doin', I gotta get out,
I gotta roam, it's somethin' that moves me,
It's somethin' that uses me without a doubt,
'cause somewhere abstract coincidence happens,
see someone in passin' while out and about,
next thing I know I'm happily travelin',
puttin' in action ideas that I mouth,
cause I speak it and do it, talk it and walk it,
I'm so bad about it, I shout it out loud,
but try to stay open, the forces in motion,
They keep me on course, it's just clear that i've found (?),
Imprissoned in flesh and reality's blesses,
that made manifest every woman and child,
I'll keep on expressin' reality's lessons,
explorin' my prison until I'm let out.
That journey-a call me quick,
That journey-a call my name,
That journey-a call have it's way,
an' have me wonderin' all my days
That journey-a call me quick,
That journey-a call my name,
That journey-a call have it's way,
have me wonderin' all my days.
Travelin' East and West, on every known highway,
South to North carryin' that torch until I'm old and grey.
Well in the mean time inbetween I'm pushin' through this,
I said in the main time inbetween I'm on my duty.
Sometimes I get beat up, sometimes I'm the beater,
Sometimes man my feet hurt from walkin' so long,
Sometimes I'm defeated, sometimes I get cheated,
Sometimes I just need it, 'cause sometimes I'm wrong,
So the question's repeated, why even try?
When there's rocks in the road, pot-holes in the lawn,
The victory's sweeter when obstacles either,
Are side-stepped or crushed on the way to the door,
So I go on my own, have faith in the road,
I can share that control cause I'm never alone.
I hear the creator speak to me through wispers,
On winds the voices of friends and of foes,
I listen to omens, the things that he shows me,
Shows that he knows me and helps me along,
[...] Read more
song performed by Fatboy Slim
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Insect
From Camoweal to Windywoe, from Windywoe to Thirstyville,
We'll drag the line around the map, along the plain, and up the hill;
Scross the desert, to the swamp, across the swamp and up the rise.
'Our ' Sacred Rights must be preserved, 'our' claims you'll have to recognise.
One night, while others were abed,
With weary eyes and aching head,
I pored for hours and hours upon a map,
Till dots and lines began to swim.
'Suggested routes' grew blurred and dim,
And then, I think, I must have had a nap.
But, with a start,it seemed to me,
I sat boolt upright suddenly,
And gazed, with staring eyes, before me straight;
For there, upon my inkwell's brim,
With aspect most grotesque and grim,
Methought a large, fat, hairy spider sate.
'Good fellow, you behold in me
An insect of repute,' said he.
'I'm that State Insect, so much talked about.
I've frequently been mentioned in
Such papers as THE BULLETIN;
So you have beard of me before, no doubt.
'You've recently,' pursued the brute,
'Been pondering upon the route
Of our Transcontinental Railway Line.
I do not know what views you hold;
But, if it be not deemed too bold,
I'll just acquaint you with a few of mine.'
Then, suddenly, the creature dropped
Heels over head, and downward flopped
Into the pot, and floundered in the ink.
I calmly thought, 'He'll drown, no doubt';
But presently he struggled out
And sat, once more, all dripping, on the brink.
'Ere I proceed to illustrate
The views of each protesting State
Thus did the beast address me from the pot
'Please understand I represent
All phases of State discontent;
[...] Read more
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Lifes A Journey
I say life’s a journey, because life’s something we have once and everything we do and say is something we can’t go back and change. So I look at life as a journey. That I have to live full out, with no regrets. I don’t have time to live in the past or think about all the bad things. Almost all human being takes life for granted, and I don’t want to be one of those people. So I promised my self to never ever live with regrets, so I try to do whatever my heart tells me. And I try to stand up for all my believes, and I can’t do that if I live in the past or with regrets. It’s a waist of time,
Because life’s a journey.
I usually say if you got a dream go for it, because giving up on a dream is like giving up on life and giving up on life is like sitting and asking god to die. I know it’s hard to go for your dream when people tell you, that you won’t make it. So I just tell my self, whenever I fall I get back up, because I won’t give up without a fight.
Because life’s a journey.
What you’ve got if you don’t have faith, I know it’s hard to hold on to, when we live in a world like this. But I always hold on to my faith and my hopes.
My believes is what often keeps me going,
Because life’s a journey.
Life is hard, we all know it isn’t fair but I say stop worrying about what you/we don’t have and appreciate what you/we have. Because whenever you/we have a bad day someone else has a worse day and in worse case someone might be dying,
Because life’s a journey.
This world need some love, I know it’s easier to hate than love but at least could we try to respect each other. We would get so much more out of this journey then, I really believe that. Maybe sometimes we should just start to think about our self’s than everybody else. Because if we keep hate on each other, we will soon see world war 3, and I don’t think any one wants that to happen. I wish we could all respect each other, black and white, blue and yellow, bigger and smaller. Because at the end of the day we all human being on a journey that can end any time. It’s sad but it’s true,
Because life’s a journey.
Life’s a journey till the day it ends and when it ends there is no looking back or taking back. We had our changes only doomsday will show us if we wasted our time on our journey or if we enjoyed the journey and appreciated what we had. When we are at the end of our journey that’s when we have to face death. Many people forget we have to die because they might be afraid, but I’m not because it’s a part of life.
Life’s a journey till it ends.
poem by Precious Mason
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Journey to Be
I think I'll journey out some day to wondrous lands afar,
Or even chart a journey to a distant blazing star.
But rest assured that when my journey begs to take its cue,
Always know that when I go, this journey takes you too.
We'll start our journey out from here by horse and cart of old,
The seaside docks - and journey pauses - where we shall behold
A noble schooner for the journey primed to launch as planned:
To sail with dolphins cross the seas then journey back on land.
And so our journey goes by foot to conquer mountains tall:
A chapter hence the journey reached, with scenes that should enthral.
But when we tire, let's rest our journey, stretched in fields of flowers,
And bathe atop the mountain from the journey - autumn showers!
Refreshed, our journey takes a turn - we'll venture back for home,
But first we'll let the journey take a tangent just to roam.
And in the winding route, this journey's bound to bide content,
But most of all take heed - let's make our journey life's event.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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[9] O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!
O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!
[LOVE POEMS]
POET: MAHENDRA BHATNAGAR
POEMS
1 Passion And Compassion / 1
2 Affection
3 Willing To Live
4 Passion And Compassion / 2
5 Boon
6 Remembrance
7 Pretext
8 To A Distant Person
9 Perception
10 Conclusion
10 You (1)
11 Symbol
12 You (2)
13 In Vain
14 One Night
15 Suddenly
16 Meeting
17 Touch
18 Face To Face
19 Co-Traveller
20 Once And Once only
21 Touchstone
22 In Chorus
23 Good Omens
24 Even Then
25 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (1)
26 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (2)
27 Life Aspirant
28 To The Condemned Woman
29 A Submission
30 At Midday
31 I Accept
32 Who Are You?
33 Solicitation
34 Accept Me
35 Again After Ages …
36 Day-Dreaming
37 Who Are You?
38 You Embellished In Song
[...] Read more
poem by Mahendra Bhatnagar
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The Vision Was Quite Clear
The vision was quite clear.
At first, it began with a map.
I was walking in a forest.
I was holding the map in my hands.
Then a wall appeared in front of me,
Stopping me abruptly, halting my journey.
Another wall appeared to my left.
Another wall appeared to my right.
Another wall appeared behind me.
I was trapped and without help I would die.
Above me, I heard something.
An angel flew overhead.
'Help me out of here! ' I asked.
He smiled, 'You do not understand.'
It seemed I must stay awhile.
A few days passed by without release.
I was so hungry yet all I had was the map.
The angel suggested I eat the map.
'How else will you stay alive? ' he asked.
But I knew God gave me the map.
I must not eat it for it still had worth.
'I will wait upon the Lord to deliver me! '
The angel smiled and then came the miracle.
Both his wings fell off and fell to me.
'Put them on! ' said the angel.
'You have passed the first test! '
I put the wings upon my back.
I flew upwards to thank him.
The angel accepted my thanks.
In seconds, he disappeared.
I was alone, yet now I could fly.
I flew to the top of the mountain.
I built an altar and worshipped the Lord.
A white cloud appeared above me.
Lightning flashed and burnt my wings.
I was merely a man once more...
Yet I was happy being so close to God.
Knowing I was loved was enough.
Knowing I still had the map for my journey.
Then I heard the voice of God.
'Visions and prophecies, wisdom and love.
All these I will give unto you.
You are My child, adopted forever.
Obey Me and I will bless you... forever...'
poem by Denis Martindale
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Life And Time
if life is a book, then time is pen--writing pages of life journey;
if life is a piece of white paper, then time is color--painting more colorful life journey;
if life is a long river, then time is surging waves--pushing forward of life journey;
if life is a tree, then time is pieces of green leaves--enriching life journey;
if life is a door, then time is just the key--opening new start of life journey;
if life is a cup of coffee, then time is a bag of condiments--flavoring into life journey;
if life is a scene of tv play, then time is nameless leading role in it--performing its own speical and unique life journey;
if life is a oil painting, then time is its palette--rendering life journey;
if life is a fast horse, then time is its running greenland--carrying load of life journey;
if life is a greenland, then time is spring rain--moisturing nutrition of life journey
...........
this is ur own life, a life which only belong to ur own, ur sepcial and unique one.......
poem by Flying Heart
Added by Poetry Lover
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The Journey without shortcuts
The Journey traveled without shortcuts,
is a journey worth taking.
For there are no shortcuts,
to any place worth going.
The destination does not matter,
but the Journey to it does.
For at the destination,
you will not learn anything.
You will not accomplish much either.
On the Journey to it, however,
you learn many things,
and accomplish much.
On the Journey,
you learn. You learn that,
'We are not human beings on a spiritual journey,
but spiritual beings on a human journey.' (-my good friend Joe)
So travel hard,
and travel well.
Choose your companions wisely,
and leave everything behind.
Never look back,
always move forward.
For 'Yesterday is history,
and history is miles away.' (-Matthew West)
But never forget anything either,
learn all that you can,
and treasure the good times.
Then this Journey will be like no other.
This is the Journey,
of life.
Our life here on Earth,
so don't take shortcuts.
This Journey won't be easy,
but you have a guide.
The guide will never leave your side,
and he will carry you through the rough terrain.
He loves you more than you will ever know,
and he gave you this Journey,
so travel it while holding his hand.
You are not alone.
[...] Read more
poem by Melissa Wagner
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Bad Side Of The Moon
(bernie taupin/elton john)
Published by songs of polygram international - bmi
Seems as though Ive lived my life on the bad side of the moon
To stir your dregs, and sittin still, without a rustic spoon
Now come on people, live with me, where the light has never shone
And the harlots flock like hummingbirds, speakin in a foreign tongue
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
It seems as though Ive lived my life on the bad side of the moon
To stir your dregs, and sittin still, without a rustic spoon
Now come on people, live with me, where the light has never shone
And the harlots flock like hummingbirds, speakin in a foreign tongue
Im a light world away, from the people who make me stay
Sittin on the bad side of the moon
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
There aint no need for watchdogs here, to justify our ways
We lived our lives in manacles, the main cause of our stay
And exiled here from other worlds, my sentence comes to soon
Why should I be made to pay on the bad side of the moon
Im a light world away, from the people who make me stay
Sittin on the bad side of the moon
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
song performed by April Wine
Added by Lucian Velea
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XI. Guido
You are the Cardinal Acciaiuoli, and you,
Abate Panciatichi—two good Tuscan names:
Acciaiuoli—ah, your ancestor it was
Built the huge battlemented convent-block
Over the little forky flashing Greve
That takes the quick turn at the foot o' the hill
Just as one first sees Florence: oh those days!
'T is Ema, though, the other rivulet,
The one-arched brown brick bridge yawns over,—yes,
Gallop and go five minutes, and you gain
The Roman Gate from where the Ema's bridged:
Kingfishers fly there: how I see the bend
O'erturreted by Certosa which he built,
That Senescal (we styled him) of your House!
I do adjure you, help me, Sirs! My blood
Comes from as far a source: ought it to end
This way, by leakage through their scaffold-planks
Into Rome's sink where her red refuse runs?
Sirs, I beseech you by blood-sympathy,
If there be any vile experiment
In the air,—if this your visit simply prove,
When all's done, just a well-intentioned trick,
That tries for truth truer than truth itself,
By startling up a man, ere break of day,
To tell him he must die at sunset,—pshaw!
That man's a Franceschini; feel his pulse,
Laugh at your folly, and let's all go sleep!
You have my last word,—innocent am I
As Innocent my Pope and murderer,
Innocent as a babe, as Mary's own,
As Mary's self,—I said, say and repeat,—
And why, then, should I die twelve hours hence? I—
Whom, not twelve hours ago, the gaoler bade
Turn to my straw-truss, settle and sleep sound
That I might wake the sooner, promptlier pay
His due of meat-and-drink-indulgence, cross
His palm with fee of the good-hand, beside,
As gallants use who go at large again!
For why? All honest Rome approved my part;
Whoever owned wife, sister, daughter,—nay,
Mistress,—had any shadow of any right
That looks like right, and, all the more resolved,
Held it with tooth and nail,—these manly men
Approved! I being for Rome, Rome was for me.
Then, there's the point reserved, the subterfuge
My lawyers held by, kept for last resource,
Firm should all else,—the impossible fancy!—fail,
And sneaking burgess-spirit win the day.
The knaves! One plea at least would hold,—they laughed,—
One grappling-iron scratch the bottom-rock
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau, Saviour of Society
Epigraph
Υδραν φονεύσας, μυρίων τ᾽ ἄλλων πόνων
διῆλθον ἀγέλας . . .
τὸ λοίσθιον δὲ τόνδ᾽ ἔτλην τάλας πόνον,
. . . δῶμα θριγκῶσαι κακοῖς.
I slew the Hydra, and from labour pass'd
To labour — tribes of labours! Till, at last,
Attempting one more labour, in a trice,
Alack, with ills I crowned the edifice.
You have seen better days, dear? So have I —
And worse too, for they brought no such bud-mouth
As yours to lisp "You wish you knew me!" Well,
Wise men, 't is said, have sometimes wished the same,
And wished and had their trouble for their pains.
Suppose my Œdipus should lurk at last
Under a pork-pie hat and crinoline,
And, latish, pounce on Sphynx in Leicester Square?
Or likelier, what if Sphynx in wise old age,
Grown sick of snapping foolish people's heads,
And jealous for her riddle's proper rede, —
Jealous that the good trick which served the turn
Have justice rendered it, nor class one day
With friend Home's stilts and tongs and medium-ware,—
What if the once redoubted Sphynx, I say,
(Because night draws on, and the sands increase,
And desert-whispers grow a prophecy)
Tell all to Corinth of her own accord.
Bright Corinth, not dull Thebes, for Lais' sake,
Who finds me hardly grey, and likes my nose,
And thinks a man of sixty at the prime?
Good! It shall be! Revealment of myself!
But listen, for we must co-operate;
I don't drink tea: permit me the cigar!
First, how to make the matter plain, of course —
What was the law by which I lived. Let 's see:
Ay, we must take one instant of my life
Spent sitting by your side in this neat room:
Watch well the way I use it, and don't laugh!
Here's paper on the table, pen and ink:
Give me the soiled bit — not the pretty rose!
See! having sat an hour, I'm rested now,
Therefore want work: and spy no better work
For eye and hand and mind that guides them both,
During this instant, than to draw my pen
From blot One — thus — up, up to blot Two — thus —
Which I at last reach, thus, and here's my line
Five inches long and tolerably straight:
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning (1871)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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And then there were none
There were ten
Waiting by the road
Ready for a journey
Of an entire lifetime
The ten crossed the lake,
But the tenth was too scared
He left the others to their fates
And departed with some joy.
And then there were nine
Walking by the road,
Engrossed in the journey
Of an entire lifetime
The nine walked over a bridge
But the ninth saw a beauty
Pursued her, leaving the rest
And sealed his own fate
And then there were eight
Walking by the road,
Engrossed in the journey
Of an entire lifetime.
As they walked by the gorge,
The eighth saw a tree
Laden with fruits. Hunger
Consumed his life away
And then there were seven
Walking by the road,
Engrossed in the journey
Of an entire lifetime.
As they walked by the mountain
Cold consumed their hearts.
The seventh saw a route
To escape from the way.
And then there were six
Walking by the road,
Engrossed in the journey
Of an entire lifetime.
The trail went on and on
Never showed a sign of ending
The sixth lost all hope
And left the party, disgruntled.
[...] Read more
poem by Devdan Vaidyanathan
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Map Of The World
Watching the people on the street today she couldnt help but smile
Watchin the town go walking by all shaded eyes and alibis
Strange how much pain you can hide away beneath a well-cut suit
This is the day she walks away
And the lights of the city pushin a good time
Asking her out tonight
But shes saving her money for a better life
Shes got a map of the world
Pinned up on her wall
Shes got a map of the world
Shes gonna go and see it all
Shes gonna see it all
Watchin the people on the street today
Such a lonely sight
swore she could see their dreams go by
All cars and stars and buy buy buy
Runnin on empty runnin to stand still
No time for their own lives
Sleepwalking through the danger signs
And it feels a little scary
A little runaway
Letting go of all shes done
And the lights of the city, well theyre all singin
Buy some of this, cmon
But when you lie to yourself
You lie to everyone
Shes got a map of the world
Pinned up on her wall
Shes got a map of the world
Shes gonna go and see it all
Shes gonna see it all
Shell empty the sand from her shoes
In paradise
Sail out across the bay
Shell dance under an island sky
Until the break of day
Shes got a map of the world
Pinned up on her wall
Its such a beautiful world
Glistening and magical
Shes got a map of the world
Shining away in her mind
Colouring-in her life
This is the day she walks
Shes gonna see it all
Shes gonna breathe it all
Paris london new york
Shes gonna see it all
song performed by Marillion
Added by Lucian Velea
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Journey To The Centre Of Your Heart
Take me on a journey
On a journey to the centre of you heart
Let me make the journey
Wanna journey to the centre of your heart
I wanna go, I wanna go
Oh let me go, I wanna go
Baby wanna travel
Wanna travel cross the borders of your mind
Baby wanna travel
Wanna travel cross the borders of your mind
I wanna go, please let me go
I wanna go, please let me go
Take me on a journey
On a journey to the bottom of your soul
Take me on a journey
On a journey to the bottom of your soul
I wanna go, oh let me go
I wanna go, oh let me go
Baby wanna travel
Wanna travel cross the borders of your mind
Baby wanna travel
Wanna travel cross the borders of your mind
I wanna go, oh let me go
I wanna go, oh let me go
Take me on a journey
On a journey to the centre of your heart
Let me make the journey
Wanna journey to the centre of your heart
I wanna go, I wanna go
Oh let me go , I wanna go
song performed by Donna Summer
Added by Lucian Velea
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Map Of Your Head
I'm sick of feeling my soul
To people who'll never know
Just how purposeless and empty they've grown
Because the language confuses like computers refuse to understand how I'm
feeling today
I'm freezing and losing my way
I don't need another map of your head
I'm freezing and losing my way
I don't need another map of your head
I saw a liquid control
That gives life to a soul
I hit my head on it and woke up to know
That I was all alone
Wearing just socks and a phone
Someone is screaming like their world might explode
Yeah I'm freezing and losing my way
I don't need another map of your head
I'm freezing and losing my way
I don't want another map of your head
Freezing and losing my way
I don't want another map of your head
I'm freezing and losing my way
I don't need another map of your head
song performed by Muse
Added by Lucian Velea
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Journey Knowing Pain
The ‘JOURNEY’ of life is full of so many mysteries,
Almost never giving the answers we would to hear.
Cruel and hard as it seems,
The journey continues from day to day,
Week to week, month to month and year in and year out.
Sometimes we feel this journey is so meaningless,
Emptiness fills our hearts, we sadden, we bleed,
Find ourselves without a face
Not wanting to go on any longer
Asking and seeking…is it really worthwhile
To suffer each day so relentlessly
No horizon to been seen, stars they don’t shine
Rainbows have no colours, the sun cold,
Cold as ice, raindrops become your tears,
The wind your inner fears,
The ocean mixing up your emotions.
Flowers wilt as so does your soul,
Songs become just a tune without melody,
The beautiful lyric you once heard
Is deaf to the ear.
You stumble and fall from mistakes made,
There is no forgiveness, no trust, all is gone,
Judged, convicted and sentenced.
How do you pick up the pieces again?
It seem a mission impossible
To far from your reach, the miles never ending.
This is the ‘JOURNEY’ I am experiencing now
The reflection in the mirror a wicked monster,
To be condemned till the day I die
Called a ‘Journey Knowing Pain! ’ for
I cannot just be ‘ME! ’
But in my heart I know that ‘IF’….
I could take back yesterdays journey
It would be the very first thing I would do.
To those who I have shared this ‘JOURNEY, ’
For all the pain, all the wrong, all my mistakes.
Which caused pain and made you bleed and ache within,
As humble as I can be I beg your pardon.
Please look into your heart and forgive me,
Once more I stretch out my hand to you
And ask once more….
Help me turn this ‘JOURNEY’ for the better
And not the worse!
dedicated to: my other wing!
Comments:
There are but 3 JOURNEYS in life.... The Entry, The Exit and the Journey of life itself experiencing each phase as an entity of its own! Share with me a journey of...knowing pain!
poem by Chiqui Babykin
Added by Poetry Lover
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Bishop Blougram's Apology
No more wine? then we'll push back chairs and talk.
A final glass for me, though: cool, i' faith!
We ought to have our Abbey back, you see.
It's different, preaching in basilicas,
And doing duty in some masterpiece
Like this of brother Pugin's, bless his heart!
I doubt if they're half baked, those chalk rosettes,
Ciphers and stucco-twiddlings everywhere;
It's just like breathing in a lime-kiln: eh?
These hot long ceremonies of our church
Cost us a little—oh, they pay the price,
You take me—amply pay it! Now, we'll talk.
So, you despise me, Mr. Gigadibs.
No deprecation—nay, I beg you, sir!
Beside 't is our engagement: don't you know,
I promised, if you'd watch a dinner out,
We'd see truth dawn together?—truth that peeps
Over the glasses' edge when dinner's done,
And body gets its sop and holds its noise
And leaves soul free a little. Now's the time:
Truth's break of day! You do despise me then.
And if I say, "despise me"—never fear!
1 know you do not in a certain sense—
Not in my arm-chair, for example: here,
I well imagine you respect my place
(Status, entourage, worldly circumstance)
Quite to its value—very much indeed:
—Are up to the protesting eyes of you
In pride at being seated here for once—
You'll turn it to such capital account!
When somebody, through years and years to come,
Hints of the bishop—names me—that's enough:
"Blougram? I knew him"—(into it you slide)
"Dined with him once, a Corpus Christi Day,
All alone, we two; he's a clever man:
And after dinner—why, the wine you know—
Oh, there was wine, and good!—what with the wine . . .
'Faith, we began upon all sorts of talk!
He's no bad fellow, Blougram; he had seen
Something of mine he relished, some review:
He's quite above their humbug in his heart,
Half-said as much, indeed—the thing's his trade.
I warrant, Blougram's sceptical at times:
How otherwise? I liked him, I confess!"
Che che, my dear sir, as we say at Rome,
Don't you protest now! It's fair give and take;
You have had your turn and spoken your home-truths:
The hand's mine now, and here you follow suit.
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from Men and Women (1855)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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VII. Pompilia
I am just seventeen years and five months old,
And, if I lived one day more, three full weeks;
'T is writ so in the church's register,
Lorenzo in Lucina, all my names
At length, so many names for one poor child,
—Francesca Camilla Vittoria Angela
Pompilia Comparini,—laughable!
Also 't is writ that I was married there
Four years ago: and they will add, I hope,
When they insert my death, a word or two,—
Omitting all about the mode of death,—
This, in its place, this which one cares to know,
That I had been a mother of a son
Exactly two weeks. It will be through grace
O' the Curate, not through any claim I have;
Because the boy was born at, so baptized
Close to, the Villa, in the proper church:
A pretty church, I say no word against,
Yet stranger-like,—while this Lorenzo seems
My own particular place, I always say.
I used to wonder, when I stood scarce high
As the bed here, what the marble lion meant,
With half his body rushing from the wall,
Eating the figure of a prostrate man—
(To the right, it is, of entry by the door)
An ominous sign to one baptized like me,
Married, and to be buried there, I hope.
And they should add, to have my life complete,
He is a boy and Gaetan by name—
Gaetano, for a reason,—if the friar
Don Celestine will ask this grace for me
Of Curate Ottoboni: he it was
Baptized me: he remembers my whole life
As I do his grey hair.
All these few things
I know are true,—will you remember them?
Because time flies. The surgeon cared for me,
To count my wounds,—twenty-two dagger-wounds,
Five deadly, but I do not suffer much—
Or too much pain,—and am to die to-night.
Oh how good God is that my babe was born,
—Better than born, baptized and hid away
Before this happened, safe from being hurt!
That had been sin God could not well forgive:
He was too young to smile and save himself.
When they took two days after he was born,
My babe away from me to be baptized
And hidden awhile, for fear his foe should find,—
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Journey
the journey
i’m on a journey from within
like a shooting star in between,
could not make no catch though it had all began,
on my way towards a place so clean
sick and tired of the conditions ‘am living in,
swindling my mind
to find
the essence of the blind
side of the story; one of a kind.
in its remoteness but closeness
i could feel it within the heart beat of my wilderness
fulfilling the emptiness
and the loneliness,
animatedly gripping my attention towards
and nearer…
i could now feel the tiredness
through my veins
from the membrane under my skin
furrowing through my sensory nerves to the brain
as if i was electrified, journeying to some sort, so plain
gulling proudly in me, couldn’t feel no pain
for i am to blame
for the fame
of my main aim
to claim the chain
abruptly, back to my mind to think of the same blame
that i’ve been so possessed with.
the osmosis of such thoughts nearly battered me off
but somebody from within me,
whispered through my ear flap not to back off
but to strive for a better me….
like a movie script,
all that trailed were so conversant of the other
that i now see thyself as a true reflection of the shadow
that follows me,
whenever there is radiation from somewhere
and disappears in the dark like a night hawk
but that shadow is really me, and ‘am the shadow,
on the journey though the road too narrow
over reels and gullies,
and over hills and valleys
to see tomorrow
for i’m hopeful to reach there,
and survive through the bow and arrow.
[...] Read more
poem by Onalethuso Petruss Ntema
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Journey From A Small Place
I think I'll journey out some day to wondrous lands afar,
Or even chart a journey to a distant blazing star.
I make a journey in a paper
A contemplation ink in white field
I make a journey inside the book
Traveling my imagination in the word ocean
I make a journey under the table
A furious food battle on the ground
I make a journey on top of the roof
Transforming myself among the cloud in the sky
I make a journey outside the glass
A different possibility faces on the transparent canvas
I make a journey at the bridge
Clearing the dark shadow with the water current
I make a journey above the tree
An adventure child who never stops to grow
I make a journey over my pillow
Bringing a piece of dream to reality world
poem by Selam G. Sekuar
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