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Once you have locked your door you are the emperor in your own domain.

Mongolian proverbs
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The Cap And Bells; Or, The Jealousies: A Faery Tale -- Unfinished

I.
In midmost Ind, beside Hydaspes cool,
There stood, or hover'd, tremulous in the air,
A faery city 'neath the potent rule
Of Emperor Elfinan; fam'd ev'rywhere
For love of mortal women, maidens fair,
Whose lips were solid, whose soft hands were made
Of a fit mould and beauty, ripe and rare,
To tamper his slight wooing, warm yet staid:
He lov'd girls smooth as shades, but hated a mere shade.

II.
This was a crime forbidden by the law;
And all the priesthood of his city wept,
For ruin and dismay they well foresaw,
If impious prince no bound or limit kept,
And faery Zendervester overstept;
They wept, he sin'd, and still he would sin on,
They dreamt of sin, and he sin'd while they slept;
In vain the pulpit thunder'd at the throne,
Caricature was vain, and vain the tart lampoon.

III.
Which seeing, his high court of parliament
Laid a remonstrance at his Highness' feet,
Praying his royal senses to content
Themselves with what in faery land was sweet,
Befitting best that shade with shade should meet:
Whereat, to calm their fears, he promis'd soon
From mortal tempters all to make retreat,--
Aye, even on the first of the new moon,
An immaterial wife to espouse as heaven's boon.

IV.
Meantime he sent a fluttering embassy
To Pigmio, of Imaus sovereign,
To half beg, and half demand, respectfully,
The hand of his fair daughter Bellanaine;
An audience had, and speeching done, they gain
Their point, and bring the weeping bride away;
Whom, with but one attendant, safely lain
Upon their wings, they bore in bright array,
While little harps were touch'd by many a lyric fay.

V.
As in old pictures tender cherubim
A child's soul thro' the sapphir'd canvas bear,
So, thro' a real heaven, on they swim
With the sweet princess on her plumag'd lair,
Speed giving to the winds her lustrous hair;

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poem by John Keats
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One Way To Go

Youve got to lift yourself up so high
Youve got to lift yourself up so high
You cant see the ground
You cant see the ground
You dont hear a sound
You dont hear a sound
Youve got to move it up so slow
Youve got to move it up so slow
You see it all
You see it all
Youll probably fall
Youll probably fall
Id rather die than see you fly
Than see you try
Id rather die than see you fly
Id rather die than see you fly
Than see you try
Than see you try
Id rather die than see you fly
Than see you try
Its like pushing locked doors to get in your mind
I dont care what I find
Its like pushing locked doors to get in your mind
Its like pushing locked doors to get in your mind
I dont know what Ill find
I dont care what I find
Its like pushing locked doors to get in your mind
Youve got to move me up
I dont know what Ill find
So high it hurts
So high it burns
But if you let me down
Youve got to move me up
Dont bother to call
So high it hurts
Just let me fall
So high it burns
Id rather die than see you fly
But if you let me down
Than see you try
Dont bother to call
Id rather die than see you fly
Just let me fall
Than see you try
Id rather die than see you fly
Than see you try
Its like pushing locked doors to get in your mind
Id rather die than see you fly
I dont know what Ill find
Than see you try

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song performed by Verve
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One Way To Go

Youve got to lift yourself up so high
Youve got to lift yourself up so high
You cant see the ground
You cant see the ground
You dont hear a sound
You dont hear a sound
Youve got to move it up so slow
Youve got to move it up so slow
You see it all
You see it all
Youll probably fall
Youll probably fall
Id rather die than see you fly
Than see you try
Id rather die than see you fly
Id rather die than see you fly
Than see you try
Than see you try
Id rather die than see you fly
Than see you try
Its like pushing locked doors to get in your mind
I dont care what I find
Its like pushing locked doors to get in your mind
Its like pushing locked doors to get in your mind
I dont know what Ill find
I dont care what I find
Its like pushing locked doors to get in your mind
Youve got to move me up
I dont know what Ill find
So high it hurts
So high it burns
But if you let me down
Youve got to move me up
Dont bother to call
So high it hurts
Just let me fall
So high it burns
Id rather die than see you fly
But if you let me down
Than see you try
Dont bother to call
Id rather die than see you fly
Just let me fall
Than see you try
Id rather die than see you fly
Than see you try
Its like pushing locked doors to get in your mind
Id rather die than see you fly
I dont know what Ill find
Than see you try

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song performed by Verve
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Otho The Great - Act II

SCENE I.
An Ante-chamber in the Castle.
Enter LUDOLPH and SIGIFRED.
Ludolph. No more advices, no more cautioning:
I leave it all to fate to any thing!
I cannot square my conduct to time, place,
Or circumstances; to me 'tis all a mist!
Sigifred. I say no more.
Ludolph. It seems I am to wait
Here in the ante-room; that may be a trifle.
You see now how I dance attendance here,
Without that tyrant temper, you so blame,
Snapping the rein. You have medicin'd me
With good advices; and I here remain,
In this most honourable ante-room,
Your patient scholar.
Sigifred. Do not wrong me, Prince.
By Heavens, I'd rather kiss Duke Conrad's slipper,
When in the morning he doth yawn with pride,
Than see you humbled but a half-degree!
Truth is, the Emperor would fain dismiss
The nobles ere he sees you.
Enter GONFRED from the Council-room.
Ludolph. Well, sir! What?
Gonfred. Great honour to the Prince! The Emperor,
Hearing that his brave son had re-appeared,
Instant dismiss 'd the Council from his sight,
As Jove fans off the clouds. Even now they pass.
[Exit.
Enter the Nobles from the Council-room. They cross the stage,
bowing unth respect to LUDOLPH, he frowning on them.
CONRAD follows. Exeunt Nobles.
Ludolph. Not the discoloured poisons of a fen,
Which he who breathes feels warning of his death,
Could taste so nauseous to the bodily sense,
As these prodigious sycophants disgust
The soul's fine palate.
Conrad. Princely Ludolph, hail!
Welcome, thou younger sceptre to the realm!
Strength to thy virgin crownet's golden buds,
That they, against the winter of thy sire,
May burst, and swell, and flourish round thy brows,
Maturing to a weighty diadem!
Yet be that hour far off; and may he live,
Who waits for thee, as the chapp'd earth for rain.
Set my life's star! I have lived long enough,
Since under my glad roof, propitiously,
Father and son each other re-possess.
Ludolph. Fine wording, Duke! but words could never yet
Forestall the fates; have you not learnt that yet?

[...] Read more

poem by John Keats
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Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 3. The Student's Tale; Emma and Eginhard

When Alcuin taught the sons of Charlemagne,
In the free schools of Aix, how kings should reign,
And with them taught the children of the poor
How subjects should be patient and endure,
He touched the lips of some, as best befit,
With honey from the hives of Holy Writ;
Others intoxicated with the wine
Of ancient history, sweet but less divine;
Some with the wholesome fruits of grammar fed;
Others with mysteries of the stars o'er-head,
That hang suspended in the vaulted sky
Like lamps in some fair palace vast and high.
In sooth, it was a pleasant sight to see
That Saxon monk, with hood and rosary,
With inkhorn at his belt, and pen and book,
And mingled lore and reverence in his look,
Or hear the cloister and the court repeat
The measured footfalls of his sandaled feet,
Or watch him with the pupils of his school,
Gentle of speech, but absolute of rule.

Among them, always earliest in his place.
Was Eginhard, a youth of Frankish race,
Whose face was bright with flashes that forerun
The splendors of a yet unrisen sun.
To him all things were possible, and seemed
Not what he had accomplished, but had dreamed,
And what were tasks to others were his play,
The pastime of an idle holiday.

Smaragdo, Abbot of St. Michael's, said,
With many a shrug and shaking of the head,
Surely some demon must possess the lad,
Who showed more wit than ever schoolboy had,
And learned his Trivium thus without the rod;
But Alcuin said it was the grace of God.

Thus he grew up, in Logic point-device,
Perfect in Grammar, and in Rhetoric nice;
Science of Numbers, Geometric art,
And lore of Stars, and Music knew by heart;
A Minnesinger, long before the times
Of those who sang their love in Suabian rhymes.

The Emperor, when he heard this good report
Of Eginhard much buzzed about the court,
Said to himself, 'This stripling seems to be
Purposely sent into the world for me;
He shall become my scribe, and shall be schooled
In all the arts whereby the world is ruled.'

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poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Song of Unending Sorrow.

China's Emperor, craving beauty that might shake an empire,
Was on the throne for many years, searching, never finding,
Till a little child of the Yang clan, hardly even grown,
Bred in an inner chamber, with no one knowing her,
But with graces granted by heaven and not to be concealed,
At last one day was chosen for the imperial household.
If she but turned her head and smiled, there were cast a hundred spells,
And the powder and paint of the Six Palaces faded into nothing.
...It was early spring. They bathed her in the FlowerPure Pool,
Which warmed and smoothed the creamy-tinted crystal of her skin,
And, because of her languor, a maid was lifting her
When first the Emperor noticed her and chose her for his bride.
The cloud of her hair, petal of her cheek, gold ripples of her crown when she moved,
Were sheltered on spring evenings by warm hibiscus curtains;
But nights of spring were short and the sun arose too soon,
And the Emperor, from that time forth, forsook his early hearings
And lavished all his time on her with feasts and revelry,
His mistress of the spring, his despot of the night.
There were other ladies in his court, three thousand of rare beauty,
But his favours to three thousand were concentered in one body.
By the time she was dressed in her Golden Chamber, it would be almost evening;
And when tables were cleared in the Tower of Jade, she would loiter, slow with wine.
Her sisters and her brothers all were given titles;
And, because she so illumined and glorified her clan,
She brought to every father, every mother through the empire,
Happiness when a girl was born rather than a boy.
...High rose Li Palace, entering blue clouds,
And far and wide the breezes carried magical notes
Of soft song and slow dance, of string and bamboo music.
The Emperor's eyes could never gaze on her enough-
Till war-drums, booming from Yuyang, shocked the whole earth
And broke the tunes of The Rainbow Skirt and the Feathered Coat.
The Forbidden City, the nine-tiered palace, loomed in the dust
From thousands of horses and chariots headed southwest.
The imperial flag opened the way, now moving and now pausing- -
But thirty miles from the capital, beyond the western gate,
The men of the army stopped, not one of them would stir
Till under their horses' hoofs they might trample those moth- eyebrows....
Flowery hairpins fell to the ground, no one picked them up,
And a green and white jade hair-tassel and a yellowgold hair- bird.
The Emperor could not save her, he could only cover his face.
And later when he turned to look, the place of blood and tears
Was hidden in a yellow dust blown by a cold wind.
... At the cleft of the Dagger-Tower Trail they crisscrossed through a cloud-line
Under Omei Mountain. The last few came.
Flags and banners lost their colour in the fading sunlight....
But as waters of Shu are always green and its mountains always blue,
So changeless was His Majesty's love and deeper than the days.
He stared at the desolate moon from his temporary palace.
He heard bell-notes in the evening rain, cutting at his breast.

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poem by Bai Juyi
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The Concubine

Chen Xiao Fei while the sun does shine
Was taken as the Emperor's concubine,
Just one of a hundred from the village Yang Ping
And chosen by the placing of a bright gold ring.

The Emperor's minions took her by the hand
And led her far away from the life she'd planned,
Her tears flew wide as she said zy jian
To the Ma ma, signing her away with a pen.

She said farewell to her friends from the school
Then they bathed her well in a rose-petalled pool,
They dressed her in the silks of a young girl's dream
And gave her to the Emperor, at just fourteen.

She lodged with the other of his concubines
Who taught her the rules she must follow all times
She never must climb in the top of his bed
But crawl beneath the sheet from his feet to his head.

She was told of the colours that she must not wear
And she came and she went, but by a side door
She was low in the rank of his concubines
And waited on him calling her, the very first time.

But once he had ravaged her virginity
She was told to leave his bed, but immediately,
For all of his consorts waited in a line
For the glory of a moment as his concubine.

They were guarded by the eunuchs of the Emperor's court
Who dallied with the concubines, until they were caught,
Then their heads were toppled by a sharp steel blade
And buried in the field where their sisters were laid.

But the news came down, and the news was bleak
That the Emperor was dead, had died in his sleep
And the Empress ordered that Chen Xiao Fei
Would be buried standing up, in the Emperor's grave.

She begged and she pleaded with the Emperor's wife
But consorts were needed in the afterlife,
She could choose to be drowned in the well by the park,
Or hang herself there, with a bright silk scarf.

She picked out a scarf to be hung, Xiao Fei
Along with the others, at dawn the next day,
And they all were buried by the eunuch guard
In a line, in a field by the Palace's yard.

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poem by David Lewis Paget
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Malmaison

I

How the slates of the roof sparkle in the sun, over there, over there,
beyond the high wall! How quietly the Seine runs in loops and windings,
over there, over there, sliding through the green countryside! Like ships
of the line, stately with canvas, the tall clouds pass along the sky,
over the glittering roof, over the trees, over the looped and curving river.
A breeze quivers through the linden-trees. Roses bloom at Malmaison.
Roses! Roses! But the road is dusty. Already the Citoyenne Beauharnais
wearies of her walk. Her skin is chalked and powdered with dust,
she smells dust, and behind the wall are roses! Roses with
smooth open petals, poised above rippling leaves . . . Roses . . .
They have told her so. The Citoyenne Beauharnais shrugs her shoulders
and makes a little face. She must mend her pace if she would be back
in time for dinner. Roses indeed! The guillotine more likely.

The tiered clouds float over Malmaison, and the slate roof sparkles
in the sun.

II

Gallop! Gallop! The General brooks no delay. Make way, good people,
and scatter out of his path, you, and your hens, and your dogs,
and your children. The General is returned from Egypt, and is come
in a `caleche' and four to visit his new property. Throw open the gates,
you, Porter of Malmaison. Pull off your cap, my man, this is your master,
the husband of Madame. Faster! Faster! A jerk and a jingle
and they are arrived, he and she. Madame has red eyes. Fie! It is for joy
at her husband's return. Learn your place, Porter. A gentleman here
for two months? Fie! Fie, then! Since when have you taken to gossiping.
Madame may have a brother, I suppose. That -- all green, and red,
and glitter, with flesh as dark as ebony -- that is a slave; a bloodthirsty,
stabbing, slashing heathen, come from the hot countries to cure your tongue
of idle whispering.

A fine afternoon it is, with tall bright clouds sailing over the trees.

'Bonaparte, mon ami, the trees are golden like my star, the star I pinned
to your destiny when I married you. The gypsy, you remember her prophecy!
My dear friend, not here, the servants are watching; send them away,
and that flashing splendour, Roustan. Superb -- Imperial, but . . .
My dear, your arm is trembling; I faint to feel it touching me! No, no,
Bonaparte, not that -- spare me that -- did we not bury that last night!
You hurt me, my friend, you are so hot and strong. Not long, Dear,
no, thank God, not long.'

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poem by Amy Lowell
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Otho The Great - Act III

SCENE I.
The Country.
Enter ALBERT.
Albert. O that the earth were empty, as when Cain
Had no perplexity to hide his head!
Or that the sword of some brave enemy
Had put a sudden stop to my hot breath,
And hurl'd me down the illimitable gulph
Of times past, unremember'd! Better so
Than thus fast-limed in a cursed snare,
The white limbs of a wanton. This the end
Of an aspiring life! My boyhood past
In feud with wolves and bears, when no eye saw
The solitary warfare, fought for love
Of honour 'mid the growling wilderness.
My sturdier youth, maturing to the sword,
Won by the syren-trumpets, and the ring
Of shields upon the pavement, when bright-mail'd
Henry the Fowler pass'd the streets of Prague,
Was't to this end I louted and became
The menial of Mars, and held a spear
Sway'd by command, as corn is by the wind?
Is it for this, I now am lifted up
By Europe's throned Emperor, to see
My honour be my executioner,
My love of fame, my prided honesty
Put to the torture for confessional?
Then the damn'd crime of blurting to the world
A woman's secret! Though a fiend she be,
Too tender of my ignominious life;
But then to wrong the generous Emperor
In such a searching point, were to give up
My soul for foot-ball at Hell's holiday!
I must confess, and cut my throat, to-day?
To-morrow? Ho! some wine!
Enter SIGIFRED.
Sigifred. A fine humour
Albert. Who goes there? Count Sigifred? Ha! Ha!
Sigifred. What, man, do you mistake the hollow sky
For a throng 'd tavern, and these stubbed trees
For old serge hangings, me, your humble friend,
For a poor waiter? Why, man, how you stare!
What gipsies have you been carousing with?
No, no more wine; methinks you've had enough.
Albert. You well may laugh and banter. What a fool
An injury may make of a staid man!
You shall know all anon.
Sigifred. Some tavern brawl?
Albert. 'Twas with some people out of common reach;
Revenge is difficult.

[...] Read more

poem by John Keats
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Release From Locked Up Cages Aged

Release from locked up cages,
Aged.
Release from locked up cages,
Aged.
Release from locked up cages...
Aged.

Release from locked up cages.

Come everyone...
Release from locked up cages.
Come under the Sun...
Release from locked up cages.
Come feel the breezes.
With fresh air to keep!
And make it yours,
In your mind.
Get more than you need.
And...
Release from locked up cages.
Shake off the rust.

Release from locked up cages.
What's there to lust?

Or trust.

Worthy of your cussing.

Come everyone...
Release from locked up cages.
Come under the Sun...
Release from locked up cages.
Come feel the breezes.
With fresh air to keep!
And make it yours,
In your mind.
Get more than you need.

And...
Release from locked up cages,
Aged.
Release from locked up cages,
Aged.
Release from locked up cages...
Aged.

Release!
Be freed,
From locked up cages aged.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Du Mu: Ode to E Fang Palace

Ode to E Fang Palace
By Du Mu
Translated by Laijon Liu 20100701

Six kings were dethroned, four seas were united.
The mountain of Shu was chopped off,
and then E Fang Palace was built.
It covered three hundred li, isolated the sky and the sun.
From Li Mountain of north they constructed
toward west till they reached capital Xian Yang.
Two broad rivers slowly flowing into the wall of palace.
Five step a chamber, ten pace a pavilion;
The corridors like snakes creeping and circling,
eaves and brim like bird bills highly raised;
every carved stone held its unique pose,
hooking each other’s heart or charging with their horns.
Convolving and encircling, like hives and whorls,
And highly the houses stood many thousands.
Long bridges flying above the waves and ripples;
Oh, the clouds did not gather, how come the dragons appeared?
The overbridges hanging in midair;
The sky was still dim, but why the rainbows shining?
Among the high and low structures,
One would be lost and couldn’t point out west or north.
Singing platforms, warm melodies,
Spring scenery, all in harmony;
Dancing halls, breeze of sleeves,
Winds and rains, sadness and misery.
On the same day, in this palace,
The weather were all different.

Concubines, mistress, bedmaids, and sex slaves,
Princes and sons, and grand children of kings,
They all farewell their country and house
And drove here to serve the Emperor Qin.
They chanted their morning songs,
Plucked their musical strings at night,
Hailed the emperor all the days
To fulfill their duty in this palace.
Bright stars were glimmering,
Those were their makeup mirrors;
Dark clouds swinging and floating,
They washing their hair at morn.
The river Wei flowing like oil,
Their face cream dumped into it;
The smoke rose into the sky,
Their incense burning hour.
Suddenly thunders stroke,
The emperor’s chariot past.
The echoing sound remained,

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poem by Laijon Liu
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Inevitabilty is my philosophy.

Kushih style.

I drink plum wine for preference.
The Moon my only company
There is no one to take offense.
If I should drink excessively.

My wife's been dead for many years.
But in my dreams she comes to me
and whispers wise words in my ears.
Tells me to show my loyalty.

The Emperors new counsellors
are too afraid to disagree.
They have not learnt the emperor.
Prefers truth to dishonesty.

The Emperor rewarded me
With honourable retirement.
And a small house beside the sea.
Where I reside alone content..

As content as I could be.
Without my wife, far from my friends.
Though they are free to visit me.
The few on whom I can depend.

To take the time to write to me.
I know the distance is too great
For them to visit easily.
Old faithful servants of the state.

Time moves on and we grow old.
The young ones lack experience.
A lack which makes them overbold.
They write to me in confidence.

About the errors which they see.
Young counsellors are prone to make.
Although I lack authority.
I know the actions I must take.

I must write to his majesty.
Humbly request an audience.
For many years he trusted me.
This is no time for hesitance.

I take my brush and carefully.
Select the words I want to use.

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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Locked

Children tattooed, pierced and studded, dreadlocked;
parents panicked, indecisive, deadlocked.

Mother to daughter: live as you must, if you must;
for just a bit longer, keep the door to your bed locked.

Son to father: teach me what you know,
but I won't agree to keep the door to my head locked.

Mother to father: where have you been, and where
have you kept your thoughts and all you might have said locked?

They'd come so far, and then she saw, in him,
the door to their life, their home, their daily bread locked.

One night in a fiery panic dream he ran
and found the door toward which he'd wildly fled locked.

Aging, but at long last ripe and ready,
she found the on-ramp to the road ahead locked.

They learned too late the cost of keeping that cellar
full of truths that could not be gainsaid locked.

The young return. Too many find the way back
to lives in the country for which they fought and bled locked.

Eric, old friend, as you try each door in the mind,
will you wake one day to find the heart instead locked?

poem by Eric Torgersen
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Knockin On Heavens Door

Mama take this badge off of me
I cant wear it anymore
Its getting too dark, too dark to see
And I feel like im
Feel Im knockin on heavens door
Knock, knock, knockin on heavens door
I feel like, I feel like im
Knock, knock, knockin on heavens door
I said i, I feel im
Knock, knock, knockin on heavens door
Mama mama mama
Knock, knock, knockin on heavens door
Oh
Take these guns and put em to the ground
I cant, I cant, I cant
I just cant shoot them anymore
Theres a long black cloud
Theres a long black cloud
You know its a, its a comin down
I feel i, I feel i, I feel im
I feel Im knockin on heavens door
Knock, knock, knockin on heavens door
Now I said mama mama
Knock, knock, knockin on heavens door
Oh now
Knock, knock, knockin on heavens door
Oh
Knock, knock, knockin on heavens door
Wipe this blood from my face
I cant see through the walls
Six white horses coming to carry me away
I feel Im knockin on heavens door
Im
Knock, knock, knockin on heavens door
Gonna take me, gonna take me, gonna take me now
Knock, knock, knockin on heavens door
Wipe this, wipe this, wipe this, wipe this
Knock, knock, knockin on heavens door
Oh mama im
Knock, knock, knockin on heavens door
Mama take these chains off of me
Cause I dont, I dont want them anymore
Theyre getting too damn heavy
And Im crawling across the floor
I feel like, I feel like Im knockin on heavens door
Oh mama
Knock, knock, knockin on heavens door
Ah mama mama mama
Knock, knock, knockin on heavens door
Gonna take me, gonna take me, gonna take me

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song performed by Indigo Girls
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Emperor Of The Highway

I am the emperor of the highway
I wield the universal will
One might chance to overlook on my divineness
Unless Im sitting in the imperial poupe de ville
I am the emperor of the highway
Strapped with foolish mortals such as these
I need never indicate my intentions
I can stop and go and turn just as I please
For I am the emperor of the highway
Hold!
Methinks that thou hast driven too far
I am the royal prince of foreign sports cars
Better that I should drive a wheelchair or jog
Than to be blown off by a regal road hog
I am the emperor of the highway
(where did you ever get that gas sucking pig of a car? )
This time my friend, you are outclassed
(any real man would drive a stick shift)
For my uncle is the duke of the state police
(cut me off again and I will punch your lights out)
And he will place his royal boot upon your ass
(this is my exit, we shall meet another day)
Dont forget whos emperor of the highway
For I am the emperor of the highway!

song performed by Todd Rundgren
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The Emperor's Bird's-Nest. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The First)

Once the Emperor Charles of Spain,
With his swarthy, grave commanders,
I forget in what campaign,
Long besieged, in mud and rain,
Some old frontier town of Flanders.

Up and down the dreary camp,
In great boots of Spanish leather,
Striding with a measured tramp,
These Hidalgos, dull and damp,
Cursed the Frenchmen, cursed the weather.

Thus as to and fro they went,
Over upland and through hollow,
Giving their impatience vent,
Perched upon the Emperor's tent,
In her nest, they spied a swallow.

Yes, it was a swallow's nest,
Built of clay and hair of horses,
Mane, or tail, or dragoon's crest,
Found on hedge-rows east and west,
After skirmish of the forces.

Then an old Hidalgo said,
As he twirled his gray mustachio,
'Sure this swallow overhead
Thinks the Emperor's tent a shed,
And the Emperor but a Macho!'

Hearing his imperial name
Coupled with those words of malice,
Half in anger, half in shame,
Forth the great campaigner came
Slowly from his canvas palace.

'Let no hand the bird molest,'
Said he solemnly, 'nor hurt her!'
Adding then, by way of jest,
'Golondrina is my guest,
'T is the wife of some deserter!'

Swift as bowstring speeds a shaft,
Through the camp was spread the rumor,
And the soldiers, as they quaffed
Flemish beer at dinner, laughed
At the Emperor's pleasant humor.

So unharmed and unafraid
Sat the swallow still and brooded,

[...] Read more

poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Added by Poetry Lover
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A Best Emperor!

Besides poet, people birds, animals too love freedom;
Lion may be king of jungle but elephant is emperor!
This big, best emperor called gentle giant is humble
And accepts to bless devotes, escort Temple deities!

This huge animal emperor is kept as van in temple slot,
A humiliating sight to see, yet it humbly accepts the role!
For stomach satisfying food emperor surrenders, serves
And sustains with faith and gratitude to men and God!

A wonder to see freedom loving natural animal living so!
Is it a fate or destiny for the best emperor to live so here?
Child like and divine looking elephant is chiseled as God
Called as Lord Ganesha is animal, man and divine in one!

When will this big, best emperor get freedom from man
Know not, think I, whenever I see standing before Temple?

poem by Ramesh T A
Added by Poetry Lover
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How Wide The Sky

Stop peeking, open that door.
Stop peeking, open that door.
Stop peeking, open that door.
Stop peeking, open that door.

Come out and from behind,
Those fears locked up...
In your mind.
Stop peeking, open that door.
Stop peeking, open that door.
Come out and from behind,
Those fears locked up...
In your mind.
Stop peeking, open that door.
Stop peeking, open that door.

How wide the sky,
When your eyes see it!
Stop peeking, open that door.
Stop peeking, open that door.
How wide the sky,
When your eyes see it!
Stop peeking, open that door.
Stop peeking, open that door.

Come out and from behind,
Those fears locked up...
In your mind.
Stop peeking, open that door.
Stop peeking, open that door.
Stop peeking, open that door.
Stop peeking, open that door.
How wide the sky,
When your eyes see it!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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Knockin On Heavens Door

Mama take this badge off of me
I cant use it any more
Its gettin dark, too dark to see
I feel like Im knockin on heavens door
Knock, knock, knockin on heavens door
Knock, knock, knockin on heavens door
Knock, knock, knockin on heavens door
Knock, knock, knockin on heavens door
Mama, wipe the blood from my face
Im sick and tired of the war
[...]
I feel like Im knockin on heaves door
Knock, knock, knockin on heavens door
Knock, knock, knockin on heavens door
Knock, knock, knockin on heavens door
Knock, knock, knockin on heavens door
Knock, knock, knockin on heavens door
Knock, knock, knockin on heavens door
Knock, knock, knockin on heavens door
Knock, knock, knockin on heavens door
Knock, knock, knockin on heavens door
Knock, knock, knockin on heavens door
Knock, knock, knockin on heavens door
Knock, knock, knockin on heavens door
Knock, knock, knockin on heavens door
Knock, knock, knockin on heavens door
Knock, knock, knockin on heavens door
Knock, knock, knockin on heavens door

song performed by George Harrison
Added by Lucian Velea
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Some Get Erotic

Some get erotic,
When the bottom drops...
And they hit the rocks.

Like their heads had knocked against,
Acknowledged nonsense.

Some get erotic,
When the bottom drops...
And they hit the rocks.

Like they got up from a shock,
That all their bubbles popped!

And they found out...
They were isolated and locked.
And they found out...
Life is not about what they've got!

And they found out...
They were isolated and locked.
And they found out...
The bottom rushes to the top.
When you're dropping,
Isolated.
When your'e dropping,
And locked.

Some get erotic,
When the bottom drops...
And they hit the rocks.

Like they got up from a shock,
That all their bubbles popped!

And they found out...
They were isolated and locked.
And they found out...
The bottom rushes to the top.
When you're dropping,
Isolated.
When your'e dropping,
And locked.

When you're dropping,
Isolated.
When your'e dropping,
And locked.

Some get erotic,

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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