I was really kind of shy as a child. But I would do things for attention.
quote by Little Richard
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Song of Wink Star
The Song of Wink Star
a happy story for children of all ages
story and text © Raj Arumugam, June 2008
☼ ☼
☼ Preamble
Come…children all, children of all ages…sit close and listen…
Come and listen to this happy story of the stars and of life…
Come children of the universe, children of all nations and of all races, and of all climates and of all kinds of space and dimensions and universes…
Come, dearest children of all beings of the living universe, come and listen to The Song of Wink Star…
Come and listen to this story, this happy story…listen, as the story itself sings to you…
Sit close then, and listen to the story that was not made by any, or written by a poet, or fashioned by grandfathers and grandmothers warming themselves at the fire of burning stars…
O dearest children all, come and listen to the story that lives
of itself, and that glows bright and happy….
Come…children all, children of all ages, come and listen to this happy story, the story so natural and smooth as life, as it sings itself to you….
☼ The Song of Wink Star
a happy story for children of all ages
☼ 1
Night Child, always so light and gentle, slept on a flower.
And every night, before he went to sleep, he would look up at the sky.
He would look at the eastern corner, five o’clock.
And there he would see all the stars in near and distant galaxies that were only visible to the People of Star Eyes.
Night Child was one of the People of Star Eyes. And so he could see the stars. And of all the stars he could see, he loved to watch Wink Star.
Wink Star twinkled and winked and laughed.
Every night Wink Star did that. Winked and laughed.
[...] Read more
poem by Raj Arumugam
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Shy
Written by John Mellencamp
Can you shelter me
From this anxiety
Hey baby don't look me in the eye
'Cause I'm sexually shy shy shy
Sexually shy shy shy
I don't know why
With other girls I'm fine
But with you baby I'm shy shy shy
I hate for you to see me like this
'Cause nowhere else in my life
Does this exist
Can you shelter me
From this anxiety
Hey baby don't look me in the eye
'Cause I'm sexually shy shy shy
I'm sexually shy shy shy
Every time we talk
I can't catch my breath
I want a conversation
But I scare myself
I really can't hide behind this lie
'Cause with you baby
I'm shy shy shy
Woman
Well I'm ashamed to say
Woman
That I'm afraid this way
Woman
Yeah
Woman
I gotta stop acting so crazy
Can you shelter me
From this anxiety
Hey baby don't look me in the eye
'Cause I'm sexually shy shy shy
Sexually I'm shy shy shy
Can you shelter me
From this anxiety yeah
Hey baby don't look me in the eye
'Cause I'm sexually shy shy shy
Can you shelter me
From this anxiety yeah
Hey baby don't look me in the eye
'Cause I'm sexually shy shy shy
Sexually I'm shy shy shy
I don't know why
With other girls I'm fine
But with you baby I'm shy shy shy
I don't know why
[...] Read more
song performed by John Mellencamp
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Song Of Being A Child
When the child was a child
It walked with arms hanging
Wanted the stream to be a river and the river a torrent
And this puddle, the sea
When the child was a child, it didnt know
It was a child
Everything for it was filled with life and all life was one
Saw the horizon without trying to reach it
Couldnt rush itself and think on command
Was often terribly bored
And couldnt wait
Passed up greeting the moments
And prayed only with its lips
When the child was a child
It didnt have an opinion about a thing
Had no habits
Often sat crossed-legged, took off running
Had a cow lick in its hair
And didnt put on a face when photographed
When the child was a child
It was the time of the following questions
Why am I me and why not you
Why am I here and why not there
Why did time begin and where does space end
Isnt what I see and hear and smell
Just the appearance of the world in front of the world
Isnt life under the sun just a dream
Does evil actually exist in people
Who really are evil
Why cant it be that I who am
Wasnt before I was
And that sometime i, the i, I am
No longer will be the i, I am
When the child was a child
It gagged on spinach, on peas, on rice pudding
And on steamed cauliflower
And now eats all of it and not just because it has to
When the child was a child
It woke up once in a strange bed
And now time and time again
Many people seem beautiful to it
And now not so many and now only if its lucky
It had a precise picture of paradise
And now can only vaguely conceive of it at best
It couldnt imagine nothingness
And today shudders in the face of it
Go for the ball
Which today rolls between its legs
With its Im here it came
Into the house which now is empty
[...] Read more
song performed by Van Morrison
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Child Molester
Note- I wanted to write something something darker and deeper then what I currently have been.
This is what came out.
Dark Rewrite of Britney Spear's Womanizer
Storyline-One woman takes the stand that no one else will to save her street from the unthinkable
Perverted neighbor
I know where you're from
I think it's best you get your twisted... going
Got more then just a clue what you're up to
You can play squeaky clean tp all the others gathered here
But I know what you really are, what you really are sickie
Look at you
Tryin' to act so on the up and up
Sickie, you
Got everyone else here fooled
But not me, oh no, not me
Fakin' like deep down you're a good one
Let's just lay our cards out on the table
Get it all out now
Call 'em like we both know 'em
Child molester, child-child molester
You're a child molester
Oh, child molester, oh you're a child molester, sickie
You-you know-you know you are
You-you know-you know you are
Child molester, child molester, child molester
Sicko, don't try stage that front
Oh no, no, not with me
Cos I know just-just what you are, ah, ah, what you are
Sicko, don't try to stage that front
Oh no, no, not with me
Cos I know just-just what you are, ah, ah, what you are
(Spoken) You got some kind of twisted game goin'
You got them all believin' you're so charmin'
But I won't let you keep on doin' it
You child molester
Sicko, don't try stage that front
Oh no, no, not with me
Cos I know just-just what you are, ah, ah, what you are
Sicko, don't try to stage that front
Oh no, no, not with me
Cos I know just-just what you are, ah, ah, what you are
(Spoken) You say I'm crazy
[...] Read more
poem by Ramona Thompson
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Sixth Book
THE English have a scornful insular way
Of calling the French light. The levity
Is in the judgment only, which yet stands;
For say a foolish thing but oft enough,
(And here's the secret of a hundred creeds,–
Men get opinions as boys learn to spell,
By re-iteration chiefly) the same thing
Shall pass at least for absolutely wise,
And not with fools exclusively. And so,
We say the French are light, as if we said
The cat mews, or the milch-cow gives us milk:
Say rather, cats are milked, and milch cows mew,
For what is lightness but inconsequence,
Vague fluctuation 'twixt effect and cause,
Compelled by neither? Is a bullet light,
That dashes from the gun-mouth, while the eye
Winks, and the heart beats one, to flatten itself
To a wafer on the white speck on a wall
A hundred paces off? Even so direct,
So sternly undivertible of aim,
Is this French people.
All idealists
Too absolute and earnest, with them all
The idea of a knife cuts real flesh;
And still, devouring the safe interval
Which Nature placed between the thought and act,
They threaten conflagration to the world
And rush with most unscrupulous logic on
Impossible practice. Set your orators
To blow upon them with loud windy mouths
Through watchword phrases, jest or sentiment,
Which drive our burley brutal English mobs
Like so much chaff, whichever way they blow,–
This light French people will not thus be driven.
They turn indeed; but then they turn upon
Some central pivot of their thought and choice,
And veer out by the force of holding fast.
–That's hard to understand, for Englishmen
Unused to abstract questions, and untrained
To trace the involutions, valve by valve,
In each orbed bulb-root of a general truth,
And mark what subtly fine integument
Divides opposed compartments. Freedom's self
Comes concrete to us, to be understood,
Fixed in a feudal form incarnately
To suit our ways of thought and reverence,
The special form, with us, being still the thing.
With us, I say, though I'm of Italy
My mother's birth and grave, by father's grave
And memory; let it be,–a poet's heart
[...] Read more
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Story Of Nevermore
now I cast a hypnotic spell
to free a child from her hell
surrender now child fall deep in my spell
just come to me child and all will be well
rise now child in sleep you now come
walk now child thought your scenes stay numb
fall now child in to a peaceful dream
but nothing there is as it seems
even thought child in you dream all is right
really your body walks still throw the night
relax now child let that dream ease your mind
follow now child let my voice be your guild
don’t worry child my intentions are pure
you’ll be happy with me of that I am sure
I’m just so tired of being alone
I want a child all of my own
so sleepwalk now child to the pull of my charm
sleepwalk to me child you’ll be safe in my arms
nevermore child shall you cry out in pain
your old life will be lost but a new one will be gained
sleepwalk to me child you’ll be my daughter soon
find your way to me child by the light of the moon
sleepwalk to me child and I’ll show you my ways
all the things I can show you; you’ll be amazed
sleepwalk to me child your almost here
come to me child soon all will be clear
sleepwalk to me child come meet your new mom
soon the whole world will rest in your palm
I see you now child I have you in sight
I run to you child now all is right
your eyes are dazed child unseeing and blank
I can see you now child what a great daughter you’ll make
come to me child collapse in my arms
come to me child you’re safe now from harm
I hold you now child and cradle you close to my heart
I hum to you child as I carry you throw the dark
were home now dear child far from all you ones knew
were home now dear child only one thing left to do
I made this child a special potion just for you
and with it your life begins anew
[...] Read more
poem by Raven Nevermore
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Out To Lunch
(j. spinks)
Im ­ out of my head
You ­ wont understand me
Dont come knocking at my door tonight
Tell all my friends i? m all screwed up
Dont come messing with my head tonight
Tell all my friends ­ Im so far out to lunch
I? m under a spell
You won? t recognize me
Don? t come knocking at my door tonight
Tell all my friends ­ Im all screwed up
Dont come messing with my head tonight
Tell all my friends ­ Im so far out to lunch
Im out to lunch ­ mmm ­ wont you listen ­ Im to lunch
Hey just let me sleep
Please ­ dont pressurize me
Dont come knocking at my door tonight
Tell all my friends ­ Im all screwed up
Dont come messing with my head tonight
Tell all my friends ­ Im so far out to lunch
Dont come knocking at my door tonight
Tell all my friends ­ Im all screwed up
Dont come messing with my head tonight
Tell all my friends ­ Im so far out to lunch
Im ­ out of my head ­ Im out of my head
song performed by Outfield
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Shy
After a month of just bein alone he said, I wonder what l.a.s thinkin
Streets he roamed in search of a poem amongst the wild and drinkin
When he sees cool dark skin in hot virgin white
The search was over at least 4 2night
When she co-signed and then told him she was ...
Chorus:
Shy - cool dark skin in hot virgin white
Shy - lips say wont but her body say might
Shy - looks like were gonna take the long way home 2night
Oh baby (shy)
After a look much louder than words she said, I passed my initiation
A friend of mine, he got killed and in retaliation
I shot the boy (pop! pop!), huh, twice in the head
No regrets, no sorrow - Im goin back 2morrow 2 make sure hes dead
Cuz if I dont, theyll call me a chicken, but u can call me ...
Chorus
Shy
Shy - lips say no but the body say might
Looks like were gonna take the long way home..
Looks like were gonna take the long way home..
Looks like were gonna take the long way home 2night
The girl was rough, but he called her bluff
And he told her not 2 know was better
Fact or fiction he wondered
And thats when the rain and thunder got wetter
And at the top of the page he wrote ...
Shy - cool dark skin in hot virgin white
Shy - looks like were gonna take the long way home 2night
Chorus
(oh, say it now, yeah)
(shy, shy!)
(shy)
Ooh baby, dont u wanna be alone 2night?
Shy - yeah (oh yes)
Shy (shy)
Shy - looks like were gonna take the long way home 2night
song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Surfs Up
A diamond necklace played the pawn
Hand in hand some drummed along, oh
To a handsome man and baton
A blind class aristocracy
Back through the opera glass you see
The pit and the pendulum drawn
Columnated ruins domino
Canvass the town and brush the backdrop
Are you sleeping?
Hung velvet overtaken me
Dim chandelier awaken me
To a song dissolved in the dawn
The music hall a costly bow
The music all is lost for now
To a muted trumperter swan
Columnated ruins domino
Canvass the town and brush the backdrop
Are you sleeping, brother john?
Dove nested towers the hour was
Strike the street quicksilver moon
Carriage across the fog
Two-step to lamp lights cellar tune
The laughs come hard in auld lang syne
The glass was raised, the fired rose
The fullness of the wine, the dim last toasting
While at port adieu or die
A choke of grief hard hardened i
Beyond belief a broken man too tough to cry
Surfs up
Aboard a tidal wave
Come about hard and join
The young and often spring you gave
I heard the word
Wonderful thing
A childrens song
Child, child, child, child, child
A child is the father of the man
Child, child, child, child, child
A child is the father of the man
A childrens song
Have you listened as they played
Their song is love
And the children know the way
Thats why the child is the father to the man
Child, child, child, child, child
Child, child, child, child, child
Na na na na na na na na
Child, child, child, child, child
Thats why the child is the father to the man
Child, child, child, child, child
song performed by Beach Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
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
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Victories Of Love. Book II
I
From Jane To Her Mother
Thank Heaven, the burthens on the heart
Are not half known till they depart!
Although I long'd, for many a year,
To love with love that casts out fear,
My Frederick's kindness frighten'd me,
And heaven seem'd less far off than he;
And in my fancy I would trace
A lady with an angel's face,
That made devotion simply debt,
Till sick with envy and regret,
And wicked grief that God should e'er
Make women, and not make them fair.
That he might love me more because
Another in his memory was,
And that my indigence might be
To him what Baby's was to me,
The chief of charms, who could have thought?
But God's wise way is to give nought
Till we with asking it are tired;
And when, indeed, the change desired
Comes, lest we give ourselves the praise,
It comes by Providence, not Grace;
And mostly our thanks for granted pray'rs
Are groans at unexpected cares.
First Baby went to heaven, you know,
And, five weeks after, Grace went, too.
Then he became more talkative,
And, stooping to my heart, would give
Signs of his love, which pleased me more
Than all the proofs he gave before;
And, in that time of our great grief,
We talk'd religion for relief;
For, though we very seldom name
Religion, we now think the same!
Oh, what a bar is thus removed
To loving and to being loved!
For no agreement really is
In anything when none's in this.
Why, Mother, once, if Frederick press'd
His wife against his hearty breast,
The interior difference seem'd to tear
My own, until I could not bear
The trouble. 'Twas a dreadful strife,
And show'd, indeed, that faith is life.
He never felt this. If he did,
I'm sure it could not have been hid;
For wives, I need not say to you,
[...] Read more
poem by Coventry Patmore
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Tale XXI
The Learned Boy
An honest man was Farmer Jones, and true;
He did by all as all by him should do;
Grave, cautious, careful, fond of gain was he,
Yet famed for rustic hospitality:
Left with his children in a widow'd state,
The quiet man submitted to his fate;
Though prudent matrons waited for his call,
With cool forbearance he avoided all;
Though each profess'd a pure maternal joy,
By kind attention to his feeble boy;
And though a friendly Widow knew no rest,
Whilst neighbour Jones was lonely and distress'd;
Nay, though the maidens spoke in tender tone
Their hearts' concern to see him left alone,
Jones still persisted in that cheerless life,
As if 'twere sin to take a second wife.
Oh! 'tis a precious thing, when wives are dead,
To find such numbers who will serve instead;
And in whatever state a man be thrown,
'Tis that precisely they would wish their own;
Left the departed infants--then their joy
Is to sustain each lovely girl and boy:
Whatever calling his, whatever trade,
To that their chief attention has been paid;
His happy taste in all things they approve,
His friends they honour, and his food they love;
His wish for order, prudence in affairs,
An equal temper (thank their stars!), are theirs;
In fact, it seem'd to be a thing decreed,
And fix'd as fate, that marriage must succeed:
Yet some, like Jones, with stubborn hearts and
hard,
Can hear such claims and show them no regard.
Soon as our Farmer, like a general, found
By what strong foes he was encompass'd round,
Engage he dared not, and he could not fly,
But saw his hope in gentle parley lie;
With looks of kindness then, and trembling heart,
He met the foe, and art opposed to art.
Now spoke that foe insidious--gentle tones,
And gentle looks, assumed for Farmer Jones:
'Three girls,' the Widow cried, 'a lively three
To govern well--indeed it cannot be.'
'Yes,' he replied, 'it calls for pains and care:
But I must bear it.'--'Sir, you cannot bear;
Your son is weak, and asks a mother's eye:'
'That, my kind friend, a father's may supply.'
[...] Read more
poem by George Crabbe
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Get A Leg Up
Dont look at me dont touch me
Keep your mind straight ahead
Dont get no funny ideas about we
Or youll wish you were dead
Thats what I am thinking she must be thinking
The girl I spent 53 bucks on last night
She give me a look from the corner of her eye
That says, boy, keep acting right
How surprised was i
When she leaned over and whispered in my ear
Chorus:
Get a leg up
Get a leg over boy
Get a leg up
Whats the matter
Are you shy, shy, shy?
Im pretty good with first impressions
But sometimes im not always right
I pulled the car to the shoulder of the road
To see what she had in mind
Want me to spend the night
Hey lover boy you know I will
And my best girlfriend lives down the road
Together we will thrill ya
And im thinking to myself
I could be lucky pierre tonight
Chorus:
If I could get a leg up
If I could get a leg over boy
You know I aint that handsome
But you know I aint shy, shy, shy
The rest of the night we went on and on
And the moral to this song
Dont go making hasty judgements
Because sometimes they could be wrong
Nothing wrong with a good time
Just keep yourself protected make a list
And you can bet your life that the women dont know
The little girls are acting like this
So the next time a young one moves up
And she whispers in your ear
Chorus:
Get a leg up
Get a leg over boy
Get a leg up
Whats the matter
Now dont you be shy, shy, shy?
Get a leg up
Get a leg over boy
Get a leg up
[...] Read more
song performed by John Mellencamp
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
First Book
OF writing many books there is no end;
And I who have written much in prose and verse
For others' uses, will write now for mine,–
Will write my story for my better self,
As when you paint your portrait for a friend,
Who keeps it in a drawer and looks at it
Long after he has ceased to love you, just
To hold together what he was and is.
I, writing thus, am still what men call young;
I have not so far left the coasts of life
To travel inland, that I cannot hear
That murmur of the outer Infinite
Which unweaned babies smile at in their sleep
When wondered at for smiling; not so far,
But still I catch my mother at her post
Beside the nursery-door, with finger up,
'Hush, hush–here's too much noise!' while her sweet eyes
Leap forward, taking part against her word
In the child's riot. Still I sit and feel
My father's slow hand, when she had left us both,
Stroke out my childish curls across his knee;
And hear Assunta's daily jest (she knew
He liked it better than a better jest)
Inquire how many golden scudi went
To make such ringlets. O my father's hand,
Stroke the poor hair down, stroke it heavily,–
Draw, press the child's head closer to thy knee!
I'm still too young, too young to sit alone.
I write. My mother was a Florentine,
Whose rare blue eyes were shut from seeing me
When scarcely I was four years old; my life,
A poor spark snatched up from a failing lamp
Which went out therefore. She was weak and frail;
She could not bear the joy of giving life–
The mother's rapture slew her. If her kiss
Had left a longer weight upon my lips,
It might have steadied the uneasy breath,
And reconciled and fraternised my soul
With the new order. As it was, indeed,
I felt a mother-want about the world,
And still went seeking, like a bleating lamb
Left out at night, in shutting up the fold,–
As restless as a nest-deserted bird
Grown chill through something being away, though what
It knows not. I, Aurora Leigh, was born
To make my father sadder, and myself
Not overjoyous, truly. Women know
The way to rear up children, (to be just,)
[...] Read more
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Shy Away
Roy orbison /bill dees
Oh my darling, I fear everytime youre near
I will hurt you again, so dont wait till then
Shy away, shy away, shy away from me
Theres a shadow of doubt and my mind cant work it out
I not sure of myself, so put me on your shelf
And shy away, shy away, shy away from me
Youre too much of a woman, when will you understand?
Ive got a lot of the devil in me, so never hold my hand again
Shy away, yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
If I reach out for you, Ill break your heart in two
And I want you to stay so please hear what I say
Shy away, shy away, shy away from me
Please keep away from me, far away, safe from me
Darling, you must shy away, yeah-hey
song performed by Roy Orbison
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
(Freedom poems) Fairy child
Fairy child
You child of a god
Fairy child
You have given
up your freedom
Fairy
Fairy child
And now you roam
our world free
Fairy child
because
you know no borders
and your education
Ain't enough fairy child
So you cross borders
to disrespect international
Treaties
You're wanted by INTERPOL
(Can you spell that out loud?)
and the host of
The international agencies
you fairy child
You will know forwards
Fairy child
That the world serves
the interests of one
Super state
When the sanctions
begin to bite fairy child
You will cry like your
Fairy mama fairy
Because here there's
the scarcity
of the sanctions busters
Fairy child
You better go away fairy child
And find yourself
A love mate in Tokyo
Fairy child
'Cause in Tel Aviv
They hunt down the black
infiltrators
Yes they do fairy child
'cause they fear the black brothers
'cause they and the Israelis
Share the same black ancestor fairy child
You better run my brother
And fall in love and marry yourself
off to a Ethiop woman
To get a alien citizenship fairy child
[...] Read more
poem by Ngaka Motaung
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Victories Of Love. Book I
I
From Frederick Graham
Mother, I smile at your alarms!
I own, indeed, my Cousin's charms,
But, like all nursery maladies,
Love is not badly taken twice.
Have you forgotten Charlotte Hayes,
My playmate in the pleasant days
At Knatchley, and her sister, Anne,
The twins, so made on the same plan,
That one wore blue, the other white,
To mark them to their father's sight;
And how, at Knatchley harvesting,
You bade me kiss her in the ring,
Like Anne and all the others? You,
That never of my sickness knew,
Will laugh, yet had I the disease,
And gravely, if the signs are these:
As, ere the Spring has any power,
The almond branch all turns to flower,
Though not a leaf is out, so she
The bloom of life provoked in me;
And, hard till then and selfish, I
Was thenceforth nought but sanctity
And service: life was mere delight
In being wholly good and right,
As she was; just, without a slur;
Honouring myself no less than her;
Obeying, in the loneliest place,
Ev'n to the slightest gesture, grace
Assured that one so fair, so true,
He only served that was so too.
For me, hence weak towards the weak,
No more the unnested blackbird's shriek
Startled the light-leaved wood; on high
Wander'd the gadding butterfly,
Unscared by my flung cap; the bee,
Rifling the hollyhock in glee,
Was no more trapp'd with his own flower,
And for his honey slain. Her power,
From great things even to the grass
Through which the unfenced footways pass,
Was law, and that which keeps the law,
Cherubic gaiety and awe;
Day was her doing, and the lark
Had reason for his song; the dark
In anagram innumerous spelt
Her name with stars that throbb'd and felt;
[...] Read more
poem by Coventry Patmore
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Ninth Book
EVEN thus. I pause to write it out at length,
The letter of the Lady Waldemar.–
'I prayed your cousin Leigh to take you this,
He says he'll do it. After years of love,
Or what is called so,–when a woman frets
And fools upon one string of a man's name,
And fingers it for ever till it breaks,–
He may perhaps do for her such thing,
And she accept it without detriment
Although she should not love him any more
And I, who do not love him, nor love you,
Nor you, Aurora,–choose you shall repent
Your most ungracious letter, and confess,
Constrained by his convictions, (he's convinced)
You've wronged me foully. Are you made so ill,
You woman–to impute such ill to me?
We both had mothers,–lay in their bosom once.
Why, after all, I thank you, Aurora Leigh,
For proving to myself that there are things
I would not do, . . not for my life . . nor him . .
Though something I have somewhat overdone,–
For instance, when I went to see the gods
One morning, on Olympus, with a step
That shook the thunder in a certain cloud,
Committing myself vilely. Could I think,
The Muse I pulled my heart out from my breast
To soften, had herself a sort of heart,
And loved my mortal? He, at least, loved her;
I heard him say so; 'twas my recompence,
When, watching at his bedside fourteen days,
He broke out ever like a flame at whiles
Between the heats of fever . . . 'Is it thou?
'Breathe closer, sweetest mouth!' and when at last
The fever gone, the wasted face extinct
As if it irked him much to know me there,
He said, Twas kind, 'twas good, 'twas womanly,'
(And fifty praises to excuse one love)
'But was the picture safe he had ventured for?'
And then, half wandering . . 'I have loved her well,
Although she could not love me.'–'Say instead,'
I answered, 'that she loves you.'–'Twas my turn
To rave: (I would have married him so changed,
Although the world had jeered me properly
For taking up with Cupid at his worst,
The silver quiver worn off on his hair.)
'No, no,' he murmured, 'no, she loves me not;
'Aurora Leigh does better: bring her book
'And read it softly, Lady Waldemar,
'Until I thank your friendship more for that,
[...] Read more
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
II. Half-Rome
What, you, Sir, come too? (Just the man I'd meet.)
Be ruled by me and have a care o' the crowd:
This way, while fresh folk go and get their gaze:
I'll tell you like a book and save your shins.
Fie, what a roaring day we've had! Whose fault?
Lorenzo in Lucina,—here's a church
To hold a crowd at need, accommodate
All comers from the Corso! If this crush
Make not its priests ashamed of what they show
For temple-room, don't prick them to draw purse
And down with bricks and mortar, eke us out
The beggarly transept with its bit of apse
Into a decent space for Christian ease,
Why, to-day's lucky pearl is cast to swine.
Listen and estimate the luck they've had!
(The right man, and I hold him.)
Sir, do you see,
They laid both bodies in the church, this morn
The first thing, on the chancel two steps up,
Behind the little marble balustrade;
Disposed them, Pietro the old murdered fool
To the right of the altar, and his wretched wife
On the other side. In trying to count stabs,
People supposed Violante showed the most,
Till somebody explained us that mistake;
His wounds had been dealt out indifferent where,
But she took all her stabbings in the face,
Since punished thus solely for honour's sake,
Honoris causâ, that's the proper term.
A delicacy there is, our gallants hold,
When you avenge your honour and only then,
That you disfigure the subject, fray the face,
Not just take life and end, in clownish guise.
It was Violante gave the first offence,
Got therefore the conspicuous punishment:
While Pietro, who helped merely, his mere death
Answered the purpose, so his face went free.
We fancied even, free as you please, that face
Showed itself still intolerably wronged;
Was wrinkled over with resentment yet,
Nor calm at all, as murdered faces use,
Once the worst ended: an indignant air
O' the head there was—'t is said the body turned
Round and away, rolled from Violante's side
Where they had laid it loving-husband-like.
If so, if corpses can be sensitive,
Why did not he roll right down altar-step,
Roll on through nave, roll fairly out of church,
Deprive Lorenzo of the spectacle,
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Shy
Shy
By: Jean Pullman
So there’s this guy I’m really digging
I see his smile and my heart melts
I hear his voice and I get light headed
Yet I got one problem
CHORUS
I’m shy and I’m afraid to look his way
I’m shy I wouldn’t dare call his name
I’m shy I want to but I can’t talk to him
Oh I don’t why
I’m just shy
So we go to school and have a couple of classes together
Yet still I just can’t work up the nerve
I don’t know what he’ll say if I tell him
I’m afraid he’ll think I’m weird
I had a friend talk to him and give him a note
But still
CHORUS
I’m shy and I’m afraid to look his way
I’m shy I wouldn’t dare call his name
I’m shy I want to but I can’t talk to him
Oh I don’t why
I’m just shy
Well it’s the end of another day
I still haven’t made eye contact
I still got the nerve
I don’t know when I’ll talk to him
Because I am shy
poem by Jean Pullman
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!