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When there is true hospitality, not many words are needed.

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Words Are All I Have Tried To Make Greatness Out of

WORDS ARE ALL I HAVE TRIED TO MAKE GREATNESS OUT OF

I have no poem
I have only my own words
They are small
I am small
Life is great-
I am not great-
Words are all I have tried to make Greatness out of
I believe have failed.

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Words are of no use, but in vain

Lovers look at each other,
A pair of eyes look into another
pair of eyes - Love and desire
are passed through the pupil in the eyes;

Face glitters,
Speechless messages are
understood for ever;

They need not speak,
Words are of no use, but in vain.

Ref: ThirukkuRaL 1100

kaNNotu kaNNiNai nOkkokkin vaaichsoRkaL
enna payanum ila.

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A summer love

A warm summer's night
nestled cozy in your arms
rocking back and forth
from a wooden swing
hung by an oak tree
we sit
nothing but silence
just lingering thoughts
rafting in the summer's breeze
floating toward stars bright
the feel of your touch
warm breath against my neck
makes my heart beat rapidly
as i lay my head upon your shoulder
and your arm wrapped around me
sweet tender lips full of smiles
speaks of our love so pure and true
when you lay them upon mine
no words are needed
for our love is already known
the look in your eyes
tells all
on this warm summer's night
a summer love is all that remains.

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I ask you poets
How many words are needed
Too form a poem

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How Many Women Are Out There?

How many women are out there,
That are looking for a man?
That would fight for what he believes in,
And would do whatever he can.

How many women are out there,
That wish that they could find?
A man that looks at future.
Not the things that are left behind.

How many women are out there,
That seek a man who's true?
When the situation arises,
It's the right thing he will do.

How many women are out there,
Looking for a man with determined heart?
To change the things he needs to change,
To make a brand new start.

How many women are out there,
That are looking for a friend?
One that would always be there for you.
On him you could depend.

How many women are out there,
That are looking for a lover?
To hold you hand when you walk around,
And hold your heart under the covers.

How many women are out there,
Think this man does not exist?
A figment of your imagination.
Is it one you can't resist?

How many women are out there,
That this is your desire?
This is the man you're seeking.
The one who'll light your fire.

How many women are out there,
They think that this man could be?
I'll let you know he does exist.
That man is simply me.

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When you know ‘yourself'…. You not there to know it!

How do you know, you know yourself!

Through the spectacles of the audience
Those words not from your guts
The heresies not from your rationale…
And you are defined!
Interjections that stun…

What do you say, you are?
Thought within?
What you caught? Yourself?
Which self?
Every moment of introspection
Sprouts a new You. Then…
What do you say, you are?

Are you the self that changes?
Or are you the Change between the selves?
Since, the Change seems the sole permanence;
The Change that keeps you moving -
Movement is your nature,
That's your life - you are, then, the Change!
The Change that leads you to the Unchanging,
At that Unchanging you cease to change.
And be the Unchanging yourself.

You are thus the Change…
…till you cease to change
And become the Unchanging One!

When you know yourself…
You will not be here to know it.
The moment you know, you cease to live,
Since, you live only to discover yourself…


Life and Change be the things
Always by your side
Ask them, who you are at that moment…
Lest you must be the life
You must be the Change.

To know the Absolute you -
Imperative it is to know and experience
The every momentous you,
Good or bad, both are you -
Any ‘momentous you' if left undiscovered,
Delay the change to make you Unchanging…
Give away yourself…
Not to the ‘he' that observes you
To the Change that makes you meet your own kind
To the life that guides the change towards your varied selves
Deluded you must not get
By the scrutinizing eyes, words or thoughts
Guiding light is within you…
Hold on to it and know yourself…

The moment one claims to have known ‘his'self
Be sure ‘he' is yet not known to ‘him'self.
You cannot live to tell who you are,
That's being the very purpose of life.
Once you become what you ought to
You become no'body' in the world of ‘bodies.'

Thus, when you know yourself…. You not there to know it!

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There Is So Much To Be Grateful For

THERE IS SO MUCH TO BE GRATEFUL FOR


There is so much to be grateful for
I do not know how to thank God
True, I pray
But words are words-

Perhaps then the Feeling itself
Before and with the words
Is the true gratitude-

Yet I know my treacherous self
What of the times when there is no Gratitude?
What of the times of Question and Anger?
What of the times of Doubt?

Is it enough to always fear God
But to Love God only intermittently?

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When words are not enough

When words are not enough
to say thank you with
for all the sacrifices
that speaks an own language,

in the wide world
I would want no other mother
and nobody can lie deeper
in my heart.

Even in latter years
where life is cutting me small
you are prepared
to stay on my side

and this old world
you make heaven to me
and when I look through your eyes
I see another earth
that looks different and better.

As if a angel from heaven
has landed next to me
your words and deeds
the whole time brings honour
to the almighty God
and my thanks
cannot even try
to value you.

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So Many Words Of Love Have Already Been Written

So many words of love have already been written
Why should my poem for you be anything new?

It is true I loved you very much
And for years was deluded in the joyful thought that you loved me
I wrote of course words of love to you
But they are lost like most of what I have written-

Do I still love you now
So many years after we truly loved?

I loved you with the total obsessive love of one for whom the happiness of the other is the only meaning of the world-

Now I am old and far from even true remembrance of the love
that once was my life
And where you are in your soul I sadly do not truly know.

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When there is nothing to talk about

We feel, yes we feel each other’s thoughts
And there will be nothing to talk about,
We understand what we mean with what
We see and how we feel it, we do not
Talk because words would be so empty,
In such situations as these when we love
And still love, words are unnecessary,
With one glance with a little gaze,
And blink and quiver of your eyelashes
And how I flash a sudden wink,
There is no need for words, we always
Understand, willing to cater to what
The other needs what to do this time
Till the next, our hands still feel exactly
Our wishes granted our dreams fulfilled
So what is there to talk about, my love? .

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So Many Poor Souls And Not Many Who Care

So many poor souls and not many who care
Are doing it quite tough in the big World out there
The homeless and hungry teenagers of poverty street
Are searching in rubbish bins for something to eat

The gap is increasing in the social divide
And millions are Stateless and Homeless and hungry World wide
The victims of droughts and wars and disease
In the refugee camps millions of refugees.

The marginalized are doing it quite tough
On poverty street they are sleeping rough
People should not have to go hungry in the World of today
But such is not the case that does seem sad to say

For one wealthy person thousands in poverty
Those who need far more than words of sympathy
People who look old before they reach their life's prime
To be born to poor parents is their only crime.

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Words

So many words are there in our speech,
they can be very poor, they can be rich.
No one can be indifferent to their meaning
as they are alive and express your feeling.
Spoken word is not just a sound,
it can’t be found on the ground,
it’s always in your head, sometimes in your soul.
When it is spoken it becomes a parole.
A word is an energy of your spirit,
it was presented to you by God, it’s His merit.
A word is a tool of communication,
A word is a source of information.
“A word spoken is past recalling”.
Strolling all around it can’t be found,
returned back and kept in your sack.
“The pen is mightier than the sword”,
that was told about a written word.
Words, words, words………………
They are love and seduction,
each one with a certain function.
They are wonders of sin
and songs of education.
They are salvation, temptation, affectation…
They can be an executioner,
they can be the owner of a whiner.
A word can be a treatment,
It helps when you are ill.
A kind word is better than a pill.
But…there are words that just kill.
They sound like a horrible drill.
Words, words, words…………
They are triumph and defeat,
They can be pleasant and sweet.
At the end of my message
I would like everyone to acknowledge:
Each word has a strength
and it doesn’t depend on its length.
So, think before saying a word,
as it is quite well heard even by walls,
it touches someone’s soul,
it shouldn’t be a wicked foul.
“Better the foot to slip than the tongue”.
And… there is no exception for the young.

Larisa R (Odessa, Ukraine)

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For not what you are

I love you for not what you are
I admire you for not how you stare
I do not loose sight of you for a second
Watch colorful fishes swim in ponds

I love color in your wings
Beautiful melody and rhythm when you sing
It echoes in ears for only one thing
You whisper as if you are something

I hold you in dream
You are in form of sun beam
I can’t hold you for long
As light can not be hold and prove me wrong

You are my overall inspiration
Directly guiding and with deep relation
I sense it deeply when you are around
Lovely companion and desired to be found

It is all because of you
It is perfect and very true
How I wished it honestly and sincerely to covey
I knell down before Him to pray

I wish I am always with you there
When you move from there to here
I know it is your wish too
Let us be one and wish to do

I may not say “I love you”
I will not attempt even to woo
My eyes may do all the rest
I shall sincerely try to be best

It is not time to praise
Not for any wishes to chase
It is simple submission in acknowledgement
I have nothing more to say or comment

I am sure of your full support
Even though we sailed without any rapport
You had all the faith in me as I desired
You get all the praises as I fully admire

It is not confined to few lovely words
This can be done by even little birds
They express it without being noticed
But nevertheless I stand for as promised


You may step out with me as true companion
As it is first sign towards making it as strong union
You stand firm in your conviction and opinion
I see no chances at all for any kind of friction

We may move ahead with whatever we have
In tune with new world and nicely behave
Everybody may fall in line with whatever we envisaged
New story to be written without being numbered or paged

The sun has always beamed bright on our way
We can’t deny any such existence and remain away
It is our fine hour and we should be all thankful
Nature has given us all we wanted and so must be remained faithful

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Poet not to remain

It is essence of poet not to remain quiet
Even though may not have knowledge considered to be basic
The thoughts and images must reach to the masses
As they may have enough of it to read in classes

The flower may not know what fragrance it has
There might not be awareness yesterday as it was
Still there may be bright tomorrow to celebrate
It may be simple try by poet to project and narrate

The poets are called crazy and thought driven
They do not bother for their appearance even
They eat whatever they get and stay wherever they are
The world is so close to them and not very far

They are part of each living object
They accept it in mind and never reject
They try to feel natural belongingness
And it is there as gift to feel oneness

Not all can feel the impulse of nature
Not all can see the well being of future
Only few can breathe with it and survive
They make it perfect and try to revive

It requires third eye to feel the real soul
You may witness it casually and not as whole
You get hurt when something wrong is done to nature
You express sorrow when over apathy to cure

Not that people are cruel and less sentimental
They may be part of bad set up and very much instrumental
Yet poet is different from others and feels grieved
He has the noble soul and her words are respected and believed

Everybody may be passing through critical phase
There may be mad race and long chase
Yet there may be enough of reasonability in approach
Poet may try to project but not attempt to teach or preach

Some of them may be called nationalist
Some one may be well known as futurists
Some may come out as strong supporters of the liberty
Some may prove very good at prayers of almighty

It is not that only poets do great service
People from many walks of life also suffice
Their contribution is well known and of very good standard
It is the basis for which to go ahead and look forward

But the rainbow can only be seen in poetic heart
By little appearance of natural beauty it will simply start
It will pen beautiful words to please old and young alike
Not all the ideas may occur to all or strike

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Poet not to remain quiet

It is essence of poet not to remain quiet
Even though may not have knowledge considered to be basic
The thoughts and images must reach to the masses
As they may have enough of it to read in classes

The flower may not know what fragrance it has
There might not be awareness yesterday as it was
Still there may be bright tomorrow to celebrate
It may be simple try by poet to project and narrate

The poets are called crazy and thought driven
They do not bother for their appearance even
They eat whatever they get and stay wherever they are
The world is so close to them and not very far

They are part of each living object
They accept it in mind and never reject
They try to feel natural belongingness
And it is there as gift to feel oneness

Not all can feel the impulse of nature
Not all can see the well being of future
Only few can breathe with it and survive
They make it perfect and try to revive

It requires third eye to feel the real soul
You may witness it casually and not as whole
You get hurt when something wrong is done to nature
You express sorrow when over apathy to cure

Not that people are cruel and less sentimental
They may be part of bad set up and very much instrumental
Yet poet is different from others and feels grieved
He has the noble soul and her words are respected and believed

Everybody may be passing through critical phase
There may be mad race and long chase
Yet there may be enough of reasonability in approach
Poet may try to project but not attempt to teach or preach

Some of them may be called nationalist
Some one may be well known as futurists
Some may come out as strong supporters of the liberty
Some may prove very good at prayers of almighty

It is not that only poets do great service
People from many walks of life also suffice
Their contribution is well known and of very good standard
It is the basis for which to go ahead and look forward

But the rainbow can only be seen in poetic heart
By little appearance of natural beauty it will simply start
It will pen beautiful words to please old and young alike
Not all the ideas may occur to all or strike

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Homer

The Iliad: Book 14

Nestor was sitting over his wine, but the cry of battle did not
escape him, and he said to the son of Aesculapius, "What, noble
Machaon, is the meaning of all this? The shouts of men fighting by our
ships grow stronger and stronger; stay here, therefore, and sit over
your wine, while fair Hecamede heats you a bath and washes the clotted
blood from off you. I will go at once to the look-out station and
see what it is all about."
As he spoke he took up the shield of his son Thrasymedes that was
lying in his tent, all gleaming with bronze, for Thrasymedes had taken
his father's shield; he grasped his redoubtable bronze-shod spear, and
as soon as he was outside saw the disastrous rout of the Achaeans who,
now that their wall was overthrown, were flying pell-mell before the
Trojans. As when there is a heavy swell upon the sea, but the waves
are dumb- they keep their eyes on the watch for the quarter whence the
fierce winds may spring upon them, but they stay where they are and
set neither this way nor that, till some particular wind sweeps down
from heaven to determine them- even so did the old man ponder
whether to make for the crowd of Danaans, or go in search of
Agamemnon. In the end he deemed it best to go to the son of Atreus;
but meanwhile the hosts were fighting and killing one another, and the
hard bronze rattled on their bodies, as they thrust at one another
with their swords and spears.
The wounded kings, the son of Tydeus, Ulysses, and Agamemnon son
of Atreus, fell in Nestor as they were coming up from their ships- for
theirs were drawn up some way from where the fighting was going on,
being on the shore itself inasmuch as they had been beached first,
while the wall had been built behind the hindermost. The stretch of
the shore, wide though it was, did not afford room for all the
ships, and the host was cramped for space, therefore they had placed
the ships in rows one behind the other, and had filled the whole
opening of the bay between the two points that formed it. The kings,
leaning on their spears, were coming out to survey the fight, being in
great anxiety, and when old Nestor met them they were filled with
dismay. Then King Agamemnon said to him, "Nestor son of Neleus, honour
to the Achaean name, why have you left the battle to come hither? I
fear that what dread Hector said will come true, when he vaunted among
the Trojans saying that he would not return to Ilius till he had fired
our ships and killed us; this is what he said, and now it is all
coming true. Alas! others of the Achaeans, like Achilles, are in anger
with me that they refuse to fight by the sterns of our ships."
Then Nestor knight of Gerene answered, "It is indeed as you say;
it is all coming true at this moment, and even Jove who thunders
from on high cannot prevent it. Fallen is the wall on which we
relied as an impregnable bulwark both for us and our fleet. The
Trojans are fighting stubbornly and without ceasing at the ships; look
where you may you cannot see from what quarter the rout of the
Achaeans is coming; they are being killed in a confused mass and the
battle-cry ascends to heaven; let us think, if counsel can be of any
use, what we had better do; but I do not advise our going into
battle ourselves, for a man cannot fight when he is wounded."
And King Agamemnon answered, "Nestor, if the Trojans are indeed
fighting at the rear of our ships, and neither the wall nor the trench
has served us- over which the Danaans toiled so hard, and which they
deemed would be an impregnable bulwark both for us and our fleet- I
see it must be the will of Jove that the Achaeans should perish
ingloriously here, far from Argos. I knew when Jove was willing to
defend us, and I know now that he is raising the Trojans to like
honour with the gods, while us, on the other hand, he bas bound hand
and foot. Now, therefore, let us all do as I say; let us bring down
the ships that are on the beach and draw them into the water; let us
make them fast to their mooring-stones a little way out, against the
fall of night- if even by night the Trojans will desist from fighting;
we may then draw down the rest of the fleet. There is nothing wrong in
flying ruin even by night. It is better for a man that he should fly
and be saved than be caught and killed."
Ulysses looked fiercely at him and said, "Son of Atreus, what are
you talking about? Wretch, you should have commanded some other and
baser army, and not been ruler over us to whom Jove has allotted a
life of hard fighting from youth to old age, till we every one of us
perish. Is it thus that you would quit the city of Troy, to win
which we have suffered so much hardship? Hold your peace, lest some
other of the Achaeans hear you say what no man who knows how to give
good counsel, no king over so great a host as that of the Argives
should ever have let fall from his lips. I despise your judgement
utterly for what you have been saying. Would you, then, have us draw
down our ships into the water while the battle is raging, and thus
play further into the hands of the conquering Trojans? It would be
ruin; the Achaeans will not go on fighting when they see the ships
being drawn into the water, but will cease attacking and keep
turning their eyes towards them; your counsel, therefore, Sir captain,
would be our destruction."
Agamemnon answered, "Ulysses, your rebuke has stung me to the heart.
I am not, however, ordering the Achaeans to draw their ships into
the sea whether they will or no. Some one, it may be, old or young,
can offer us better counsel which I shall rejoice to hear."
Then said Diomed, "Such an one is at hand; he is not far to seek, if
you will listen to me and not resent my speaking though I am younger
than any of you. I am by lineage son to a noble sire, Tydeus, who lies
buried at Thebes. For Portheus had three noble sons, two of whom,
Agrius and Melas, abode in Pleuron and rocky Calydon. The third was
the knight Oeneus, my father's father, and he was the most valiant
of them all. Oeeneus remained in his own country, but my father (as
Jove and the other gods ordained it) migrated to Argos. He married
into the family of Adrastus, and his house was one of great abundance,
for he had large estates of rich corn-growing land, with much
orchard ground as well, and he had many sheep; moreover he excelled
all the Argives in the use of the spear. You must yourselves have
heard whether these things are true or no; therefore when I say well
despise not my words as though I were a coward or of ignoble birth.
I say, then, let us go to the fight as we needs must, wounded though
we be. When there, we may keep out of the battle and beyond the
range of the spears lest we get fresh wounds in addition to what we
have already, but we can spur on others, who have been indulging their
spleen and holding aloof from battle hitherto."
Thus did he speak; whereon they did even as he had said and set out,
King Agamemnon leading the way.
Meanwhile Neptune had kept no blind look-out, and came up to them in
the semblance of an old man. He took Agamemnon's right hand in his own
and said, "Son of Atreus, I take it Achilles is glad now that he
sees the Achaeans routed and slain, for he is utterly without remorse-
may he come to a bad end and heaven confound him. As for yourself, the
blessed gods are not yet so bitterly angry with you but that the
princes and counsellors of the Trojans shall again raise the dust upon
the plain, and you shall see them flying from the ships and tents
towards their city."
With this he raised a mighty cry of battle, and sped forward to
the plain. The voice that came from his deep chest was as that of nine
or ten thousand men when they are shouting in the thick of a fight,
and it put fresh courage into the hearts of the Achaeans to wage war
and do battle without ceasing.
Juno of the golden throne looked down as she stood upon a peak of
Olympus and her heart was gladdened at the sight of him who was at
once her brother and her brother-in-law, hurrying hither and thither
amid the fighting. Then she turned her eyes to Jove as he sat on the
topmost crests of many-fountained Ida, and loathed him. She set
herself to think how she might hoodwink him, and in the end she deemed
that it would be best for her to go to Ida and array herself in rich
attire, in the hope that Jove might become enamoured of her, and
wish to embrace her. While he was thus engaged a sweet and careless
sleep might be made to steal over his eyes and senses.
She went, therefore, to the room which her son Vulcan had made
her, and the doors of which he had cunningly fastened by means of a
secret key so that no other god could open them. Here she entered
and closed the doors behind her. She cleansed all the dirt from her
fair body with ambrosia, then she anointed herself with olive oil,
ambrosial, very soft, and scented specially for herself- if it were so
much as shaken in the bronze-floored house of Jove, the scent pervaded
the universe of heaven and earth. With this she anointed her
delicate skin, and then she plaited the fair ambrosial locks that
flowed in a stream of golden tresses from her immortal head. She put
on the wondrous robe which Minerva had worked for her with
consummate art, and had embroidered with manifold devices; she
fastened it about her bosom with golden clasps, and she girded herself
with a girdle that had a hundred tassels: then she fastened her
earrings, three brilliant pendants that glistened most beautifully,
through the pierced lobes of her ears, and threw a lovely new veil
over her head. She bound her sandals on to her feet, and when she
had arrayed herself perfectly to her satisfaction, she left her room
and called Venus to come aside and speak to her. "My dear child," said
she, "will you do what I am going to ask of you, or will refuse me
because you are angry at my being on the Danaan side, while you are on
the Trojan?"
Jove's daughter Venus answered, "Juno, august queen of goddesses,
daughter of mighty Saturn, say what you want, and I will do it for
at once, if I can, and if it can be done at all."
Then Juno told her a lying tale and said, "I want you to endow me
with some of those fascinating charms, the spells of which bring all
things mortal and immortal to your feet. I am going to the world's end
to visit Oceanus (from whom all we gods proceed) and mother Tethys:
they received me in their house, took care of me, and brought me up,
having taken me over from Rhaea when Jove imprisoned great Saturn in
the depths that are under earth and sea. I must go and see them that I
may make peace between them; they have been quarrelling, and are so
angry that they have not slept with one another this long while; if
I can bring them round and restore them to one another's embraces,
they will be grateful to me and love me for ever afterwards."
Thereon laughter-loving Venus said, "I cannot and must not refuse
you, for you sleep in the arms of Jove who is our king."
As she spoke she loosed from her bosom the curiously embroidered
girdle into which all her charms had been wrought- love, desire, and
that sweet flattery which steals the judgement even of the most
prudent. She gave the girdle to Juno and said, "Take this girdle
wherein all my charms reside and lay it in your bosom. If you will
wear it I promise you that your errand, be it what it may, will not be
bootless."
When she heard this Juno smiled, and still smiling she laid the
girdle in her bosom.
Venus now went back into the house of Jove, while Juno darted down
from the summits of Olympus. She passed over Pieria and fair
Emathia, and went on and on till she came to the snowy ranges of the
Thracian horsemen, over whose topmost crests she sped without ever
setting foot to ground. When she came to Athos she went on over the,
waves of the sea till she reached Lemnos, the city of noble Thoas.
There she met Sleep, own brother to Death, and caught him by the hand,
saying, "Sleep, you who lord it alike over mortals and immortals, if
you ever did me a service in times past, do one for me now, and I
shall be grateful to you ever after. Close Jove's keen eyes for me
in slumber while I hold him clasped in my embrace, and I will give you
a beautiful golden seat, that can never fall to pieces; my
clubfooted son Vulcan shall make it for you, and he shall give it a
footstool for you to rest your fair feet upon when you are at table."
Then Sleep answered, "Juno, great queen of goddesses, daughter of
mighty Saturn, I would lull any other of the gods to sleep without
compunction, not even excepting the waters of Oceanus from whom all of
them proceed, but I dare not go near Jove, nor send him to sleep
unless he bids me. I have had one lesson already through doing what
you asked me, on the day when Jove's mighty son Hercules set sail from
Ilius after having sacked the city of the Trojans. At your bidding I
suffused my sweet self over the mind of aegis-bearing Jove, and laid
him to rest; meanwhile you hatched a plot against Hercules, and set
the blasts of the angry winds beating upon the sea, till you took
him to the goodly city of Cos away from all his friends. Jove was
furious when he awoke, and began hurling the gods about all over the
house; he was looking more particularly for myself, and would have
flung me down through space into the sea where I should never have
been heard of any more, had not Night who cows both men and gods
protected me. I fled to her and Jove left off looking for me in
spite of his being so angry, for he did not dare do anything to
displease Night. And now you are again asking me to do something on
which I cannot venture."
And Juno said, "Sleep, why do you take such notions as those into
your head? Do you think Jove will be as anxious to help the Trojans,
as he was about his own son? Come, I will marry you to one of the
youngest of the Graces, and she shall be your own- Pasithea, whom
you have always wanted to marry."
Sleep was pleased when he heard this, and answered, "Then swear it
to me by the dread waters of the river Styx; lay one hand on the
bounteous earth, and the other on the sheen of the sea, so that all
the gods who dwell down below with Saturn may be our witnesses, and
see that you really do give me one of the youngest of the Graces-
Pasithea, whom I have always wanted to marry."
Juno did as he had said. She swore, and invoked all the gods of
the nether world, who are called Titans, to witness. When she had
completed her oath, the two enshrouded themselves in a thick mist
and sped lightly forward, leaving Lemnos and Imbrus behind them.
Presently they reached many-fountained Ida, mother of wild beasts, and
Lectum where they left the sea to go on by land, and the tops of the
trees of the forest soughed under the going of their feet. Here
Sleep halted, and ere Jove caught sight of him he climbed a lofty
pine-tree- the tallest that reared its head towards heaven on all Ida.
He hid himself behind the branches and sat there in the semblance of
the sweet-singing bird that haunts the mountains and is called Chalcis
by the gods, but men call it Cymindis. Juno then went to Gargarus, the
topmost peak of Ida, and Jove, driver of the clouds, set eyes upon
her. As soon as he did so he became inflamed with the same
passionate desire for her that he had felt when they had first enjoyed
each other's embraces, and slept with one another without their dear
parents knowing anything about it. He went up to her and said, "What
do you want that you have come hither from Olympus- and that too
with neither chariot nor horses to convey you?"
Then Juno told him a lying tale and said, "I am going to the world's
end, to visit Oceanus, from whom all we gods proceed, and mother
Tethys; they received me into their house, took care of me, and
brought me up. I must go and see them that I may make peace between
them: they have been quarrelling, and are so angry that they have
not slept with one another this long time. The horses that will take
me over land and sea are stationed on the lowermost spurs of
many-fountained Ida, and I have come here from Olympus on purpose to
consult you. I was afraid you might be angry with me later on, if I
went to the house of Oceanus without letting you know."
And Jove said, "Juno, you can choose some other time for paying your
visit to Oceanus- for the present let us devote ourselves to love
and to the enjoyment of one another. Never yet have I been so
overpowered by passion neither for goddess nor mortal woman as I am at
this moment for yourself- not even when I was in love with the wife of
Ixion who bore me Pirithous, peer of gods in counsel, nor yet with
Danae the daintily-ancled daughter of Acrisius, who bore me the
famed hero Perseus. Then there was the daughter of Phoenix, who bore
me Minos and Rhadamanthus: there was Semele, and Alcmena in Thebes
by whom I begot my lion-hearted son Hercules, while Semele became
mother to Bacchus the comforter of mankind. There was queen Ceres
again, and lovely Leto, and yourself- but with none of these was I
ever so much enamoured as I now am with you."
Juno again answered him with a lying tale. "Most dread son of
Saturn," she exclaimed, "what are you talking about? Would you have us
enjoy one another here on the top of Mount Ida, where everything can
be seen? What if one of the ever-living gods should see us sleeping
together, and tell the others? It would be such a scandal that when
I had risen from your embraces I could never show myself inside your
house again; but if you are so minded, there is a room which your
son Vulcan has made me, and he has given it good strong doors; if
you would so have it, let us go thither and lie down."
And Jove answered, "Juno, you need not be afraid that either god
or man will see you, for I will enshroud both of us in such a dense
golden cloud, that the very sun for all his bright piercing beams
shall not see through it."
With this the son of Saturn caught his wife in his embrace;
whereon the earth sprouted them a cushion of young grass, with
dew-bespangled lotus, crocus, and hyacinth, so soft and thick that
it raised them well above the ground. Here they laid themselves down
and overhead they were covered by a fair cloud of gold, from which
there fell glittering dew-drops.
Thus, then, did the sire of all things repose peacefully on the
crest of Ida, overcome at once by sleep and love, and he held his
spouse in his arms. Meanwhile Sleep made off to the ships of the
Achaeans, to tell earth-encircling Neptune, lord of the earthquake.
When he had found him he said, "Now, Neptune, you can help the Danaans
with a will, and give them victory though it be only for a short
time while Jove is still sleeping. I have sent him into a sweet
slumber, and Juno has beguiled him into going to bed with her."
Sleep now departed and went his ways to and fro among mankind,
leaving Neptune more eager than ever to help the Danaans. He darted
forward among the first ranks and shouted saying, "Argives, shall we
let Hector son of Priam have the triumph of taking our ships and
covering himself with glory? This is what he says that he shall now
do, seeing that Achilles is still in dudgeon at his ship; We shall get
on very well without him if we keep each other in heart and stand by
one another. Now, therefore, let us all do as I say. Let us each
take the best and largest shield we can lay hold of, put on our
helmets, and sally forth with our longest spears in our hands; will
lead you on, and Hector son of Priam, rage as he may, will not dare to
hold out against us. If any good staunch soldier has only a small
shield, let him hand it over to a worse man, and take a larger one for
himself."
Thus did he speak, and they did even as he had said. The son of
Tydeus, Ulysses, and Agamemnon, wounded though they were, set the
others in array, and went about everywhere effecting the exchanges
of armour; the most valiant took the best armour, and gave the worse
to the worse man. When they had donned their bronze armour they
marched on with Neptune at their head. In his strong hand he grasped
his terrible sword, keen of edge and flashing like lightning; woe to
him who comes across it in the day of battle; all men quake for fear
and keep away from it.
Hector on the other side set the Trojans in array. Thereon Neptune
and Hector waged fierce war on one another- Hector on the Trojan and
Neptune on the Argive side. Mighty was the uproar as the two forces
met; the sea came rolling in towards the ships and tents of the
Achaeans, but waves do not thunder on the shore more loudly when
driven before the blast of Boreas, nor do the flames of a forest
fire roar more fiercely when it is well alight upon the mountains, nor
does the wind bellow with ruder music as it tears on through the
tops of when it is blowing its hardest, than the terrible shout
which the Trojans and Achaeans raised as they sprang upon one another.
Hector first aimed his spear at Ajax, who was turned full towards
him, nor did he miss his aim. The spear struck him where two bands
passed over his chest- the band of his shield and that of his
silver-studded sword- and these protected his body. Hector was angry
that his spear should have been hurled in vain, and withdrew under
cover of his men. As he was thus retreating, Ajax son of Telamon
struck him with a stone, of which there were many lying about under
the men's feet as they fought- brought there to give support to the
ships' sides as they lay on the shore. Ajax caught up one of them
and struck Hector above the rim of his shield close to his neck; the
blow made him spin round like a top and reel in all directions. As
an oak falls headlong when uprooted by the lightning flash of father
Jove, and there is a terrible smell of brimstone- no man can help
being dismayed if he is standing near it, for a thunderbolt is a
very awful thing- even so did Hector fall to earth and bite the
dust. His spear fell from his hand, but his shield and helmet were
made fast about his body, and his bronze armour rang about him.
The sons of the Achaeans came running with a loud cry towards him,
hoping to drag him away, and they showered their darts on the Trojans,
but none of them could wound him before he was surrounded and
covered by the princes Polydamas, Aeneas, Agenor, Sarpedon captain
of the Lycians, and noble Glaucus: of the others, too, there was not
one who was unmindful of him, and they held their round shields over
him to cover him. His comrades then lifted him off the ground and bore
him away from the battle to the place where his horses stood waiting
for him at the rear of the fight with their driver and the chariot;
these then took him towards the city groaning and in great pain.
When they reached the ford of the air stream of Xanthus, begotten of
Immortal Jove, they took him from off his chariot and laid him down on
the ground; they poured water over him, and as they did so he breathed
again and opened his eyes. Then kneeling on his knees he vomited
blood, but soon fell back on to the ground, and his eyes were again
closed in darkness for he was still sturined by the blow.
When the Argives saw Hector leaving the field, they took heart and
set upon the Trojans yet more furiously. Ajax fleet son of Oileus
began by springing on Satnius son of Enops and wounding him with his
spear: a fair naiad nymph had borne him to Enops as he was herding
cattle by the banks of the river Satnioeis. The son of Oileus came
up to him and struck him in the flank so that he fell, and a fierce
fight between Trojans and Danaans raged round his body. Polydamas
son of Panthous drew near to avenge him, and wounded Prothoenor son of
Areilycus on the right shoulder; the terrible spear went right through
his shoulder, and he clutched the earth as he fell in the dust.
Polydamas vaunted loudly over him saying, "Again I take it that the
spear has not sped in vain from the strong hand of the son of
Panthous; an Argive has caught it in his body, and it will serve him
for a staff as he goes down into the house of Hades."
The Argives were maddened by this boasting. Ajax son of Telamon
was more angry than any, for the man had fallen close be, him; so he
aimed at Polydamas as he was retreating, but Polydamas saved himself
by swerving aside and the spear struck Archelochus son of Antenor, for
heaven counselled his destruction; it struck him where the head
springs from the neck at the top joint of the spine, and severed
both the tendons at the back of the head. His head, mouth, and
nostrils reached the ground long before his legs and knees could do
so, and Ajax shouted to Polydamas saying, "Think, Polydamas, and
tell me truly whether this man is not as well worth killing as
Prothoenor was: he seems rich, and of rich family, a brother, it may
be, or son of the knight Antenor, for he is very like him."
But he knew well who it was, and the Trojans were greatly angered.
Acamas then bestrode his brother's body and wounded Promachus the
Boeotian with his spear, for he was trying to drag his brother's
body away. Acamas vaunted loudly over him saying, "Argive archers,
braggarts that you are, toil and suffering shall not be for us only,
but some of you too shall fall here as well as ourselves. See how
Promachus now sleeps, vanquished by my spear; payment for my brother's
blood has not long delayed; a man, therefore, may well be thankful
if he leaves a kinsman in his house behind him to avenge his fall."
His taunts infuriated the Argives, and Peneleos was more enraged
than any of them. He sprang towards Acamas, but Acamas did not stand
his ground, and he killed Ilioneus son of the rich flock-master
Phorbas, whom Mercury had favoured and endowed with greater wealth
than any other of the Trojans. Ilioneus was his only son, and Peneleos
now wounded him in the eye under his eyebrows, tearing the eye-ball
from its socket: the spear went right through the eye into the nape of
the neck, and he fell, stretching out both hands before him.
Peneleos then drew his sword and smote him on the neck, so that both
head and helmet came tumbling down to the ground with the spear
still sticking in the eye; he then held up the head, as though it
had been a poppy-head, and showed it to the Trojans, vaunting over
them as he did so. "Trojans," he cried, "bid the father and mother
of noble Ilioneus make moan for him in their house, for the wife
also of Promachus son of Alegenor will never be gladdened by the
coming of her dear husband- when we Argives return with our ships from
Troy."
As he spoke fear fell upon them, and every man looked round about to
see whither he might fly for safety.
Tell me now, O Muses that dwell on Olympus, who was the first of the
Argives to bear away blood-stained spoils after Neptune lord of the
earthquake had turned the fortune of war. Ajax son of Telamon was
first to wound Hyrtius son of Gyrtius, captain of the staunch Mysians.
Antilochus killed Phalces and Mermerus, while Meriones slew Morys
and Hippotion, Teucer also killed Prothoon and Periphetes. The son
of Atreus then wounded Hyperenor shepherd of his people, in the flank,
and the bronze point made his entrails gush out as it tore in among
them; on this his life came hurrying out of him at the place where
he had been wounded, and his eyes were closed in darkness. Ajax son of
Oileus killed more than any other, for there was no man so fleet as he
to pursue flying foes when Jove had spread panic among them.

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Too Many Words

too many words
instead of filling up the gaps

multiply the empty
blank spaces between the lines
where the words
try to rule and conquer what thoughts
are trying to occupy

i like to make a point.
and this is it.

what do you need?
what do you want?

make the difference. think.
please do not write anything.

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I Did Not Want To Write Poems Of Sadness

I DID NOT WANT TO WRITE POEMS OF SADNESS

I did not want to write poems of sadness
But when sadness takes over one’s life?
The words are what the feelings are
They can try to be better
But ultimately
The true poem is the feelings
And now at this moment
Sadness is the poem
Sadness which waits for the morning light
And prays to God it will be truly ligh

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When There Is No Light

WHEN THERE IS NO LIGHT


When there is no light
It is necessary to learn to live in the darkness-
I try and fail again-
Falling together is worse than falling as one-
I did not know gloom and doom would come so early-
There must be a way out- but I do not know it and I am not the one to find it-
Two too alike do not make for salvation this day-
I pray to God-
But why should God help me when it is my responsibility?
I am old and sick and sad and weak and in pain and afraid and stupid-
The light – the light
Where is the light?
When there is so much darkness?

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When There Is No Help Coming...

(are you looking for the miracles that the
skies could possibly give?

do not gaze too much to the stars
they can make you cross-eyed
for that is what fantasy does to its
follower

do you consult the zodiac animals?
what can a lion do but bite its prey

where is the sun?
it is not there anymore
it is not an all time giver
it gets fed up to when afternoon comes
it will stop comforting you
not even a streak of light
to guide you through the night

and what about this darkness that sits beside you?
is there help coming?

the moon is not there yet
it is still mourning for the recent death
of its lover of
light....

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