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Writing fiction is... an endless and always defeated effort to capture some quality of life without killing it.

quote by Rose Wilder Lane
Added by Lucian Velea
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Genocide

When they try to tell you knowledge is a dangerous thing
"it's such a dangerous thing"
The people that have it are the people that sin
And the people that need it are the people that can never win
"they can never win"
Let me get you out of here little broken wing
There are people round here that are right
There are people round here that like to sleep at night
There are people round here that go slow
There are people round here that don't kindly to the killing of the buffalo
When they tear up all the treaties and break up all the plans
"they break up all the plans"
Did you do your duty and kill on command?
Did you know the redman used to roam this land?
"he used to roam this land"
Now the souls of lost warriors blow across the sands
People round here they get it right
People round here we like to sleep at night
There are people round here that go slow
People round here that don't take kindly to the killing of the buffalo, oh no
So listen to my story and listen to it well
"you better listen well"
Listen to the glory of the gory details of the tale i tell
Did you know the redman very well?
"i used to know him well"
Did you know the hunting ground before it became a hell?
There are people round here that are right
There are people round here that like to sleep at night
There are people round here i don't know
There are people round here that don't take kindly to the killing of the buffalo
The killing of the buffala-o
The killing of the buffala-o
The killing
The killing of the
The killing of the buffala-o
The killing of the buffala-o
The killing of the buffala-o
The killing of the buffala-o
The killing of the buffala-o
The killing
The killing
So listen to my story of genocide
How they were hunted and slaughtered till there was no place left to hide
Did you know the redman used to hold his head with pride?
Till every man, woman and child were destroyed
There are people round here that get it right
There are people round here that couldn't sleep at night
There are people round here i don't know
There are people round here that don't take kindly to the killing of the buffalo
There are people round here that understand

[...] Read more

song performed by Thin Lizzy
Added by Lucian Velea
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Europe Endless

Europe endless
Endless endless endless endless
Europe endless
Endless endless endless endless
Life is timeless
Europe endless
Life is timeless
Europe endless
Europe endless
Endless endless endless endless
Europe endless
Endless endless endless endless
Parks, hotels and palaces
Europe endless
Parks, hotels and palaces
Europe endless
Promenades and avenues
Europe endless
Real life and postcard views
Europe endless
Europe endless
Endless endless endless endless
Europe endless
Endless endless endless endless
Elegance and decadence
Europe endless
Elegance and decadence
Europe endless

song performed by Kraftwerk
Added by Lucian Velea
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Good Times Are Killing Me

MODEST MOUSE - The Good Times Are Killing Me
Album: Good News For People Who Love Bad News (2004)
The good times are killing me.
Here we go!
Got dirt, got air, got water and I know you can carry on.
Shrug off shortsighted false excitement and oh what can I say?
Have one, have twenty more "one mores" and oh it does not relent.
The good times are killing me.
Kick butt buzz-cut dickheads
who didn't like what I said.
The good times are killing me.
Jaws clenched tight we talked all night,
oh but what the hell did we say?
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
Fed up with all that LSD.
Need more sleep than coke or methamphetamines.
Late nights with warm, warm whiskey.
I guess the good times they were all just killing me.
Got dirt, got air, got water and I know you can carry on.
The good times are killing me.
Enough hair of the dog to make myself an entire rug.
The good times are killing me.
Have one, have twenty more "one mores" and oh it does not relent.
The good times are killing me.
Shit-kicker city slickers who all wanted me dead.
The good times are killing me.
Get sucked in and stuck in late nights
with more folks that I don't know.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.

song performed by Modest Mouse
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Good Times Are Killing Me

The good times are killing me.
Here we go!
Got dirt, got air, got water and I know you can carry on.
Shrug off shortsighted false excitement and oh what can I say?
Have one, have twenty more "one mores" and oh it does not relent.
The good times are killing me.
Kick butt buzz-cut dickheads
who didn't like what I said.
The good times are killing me.
Jaws clenched tight we talked all night,
oh but what the hell did we say?
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
Fed up with all that LSD.
Need more sleep than coke or methamphetamines.
Late nights with warm, warm whiskey.
I guess the good times they were all just killing me.
Got dirt, got air, got water and I know you can carry on.
The good times are killing me.
Enough hair of the dog to make myself an entire rug.
The good times are killing me.
Have one, have twenty more "one mores" and oh it does not relent.
The good times are killing me.
Shit-kicker city slickers who all wanted me dead.
The good times are killing me.
Get sucked in and stuck in late nights
with more folks that I don't know.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.

song performed by Modest Mouse
Added by Lucian Velea
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Truth and the Devil

The devil unstoppably took pride in salaciously writing; the book of
obnoxious caste-creed and venomously penalizing hatred,

The devil unstoppably took pride in acrimoniously writing; the book of
indiscriminate bloodshed and disastrously traumatizing ruthlessness,

The devil unstoppably took pride in vengefully writing; the book of
tyrannical devastation and lecherously bellicose orphaning,

The devil unstoppably took pride in fretfully writing; the book of
vindictive war and satanically criminal holocausts,

The devil unstoppably took pride in maliciously writing; the book of
coldblooded barbarism and manipulatively bizarre malice,

The devil unstoppably took pride in forlornly writing; the book of
worthless
ghosts and mortuaries brutally anointed with fresh blood,

T The devil unstoppably took pride in indigently writing; the book of
nonchalant spuriousness and fecklessly insipid meaninglessness,

The devil unstoppably took pride in torturously writing; the book of
ominous
animosity and hedonistically pugnacious illwill,

The devil unstoppably took pride in dictatorially writing; the book of
licentious bawdiness and insanely threadbare nothingness,

The devil unstoppably took pride in heinously writing; the book of
lascivious poverty and baselessly crippling uncertainty,

The devil unstoppably took pride in savagely writing; the book of
despicable
defeat and lethally ballistic atrociousness,

The devil unstoppably took pride in raunchily writing; the book of
dolorous
delinquency and insidiously slandering betrayal,

The devil unstoppably took pride in preposterously writing; the book of
scurrilous lunatism and barbarously incarcerating fiendishness,

The devil unstoppably took pride in frigidly writing; the book of
jejune
mockery and impudently castigating brazenness,

The devil unstoppably took pride in heartlessly writing; the book of
ghastly
bloodshed and indefatigably bombarding politics,

[...] Read more

poem by Nikhil Parekh
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Killing Time

(originally recorded by sweet savage)
Sound of gunfire comes through the night
Killing and hatred, its a terrible sight
Reports come in of the heavy attack
Message is seen, were moving back
Preparations are made for the journey back
Its a survival, supplies are packed
No more nights in this eternal hell
Destination is simple, we move out
Killing time - you left from the line
Killing time - your turn to kill
Killing time - what do you say?
Killing time - aha, killing time
And he knew what he needed to keep us alive
No time for cowardice, kill and survive
Like a killer kid with a switchblade knife
Nasty word, hell take your life
The silence is over, they attack again
Killing and hatred drive me insane
Reports come in of a heavy attack
Message is seen, were moving back
Killing time - you left from the line
Killing time - your turn to kill
Killing time - what do you say?
Killing time - aha, killing time
Sound of gunfire comes through the night
Killing and hatred, its a terrible sight
Reports come in of a heavy attack
Message is seen, were moving back
And he knew what he needed to keep us alive
No time for cowardice, kill and survive
Like a killer kid with a switchblade knife
Nasty word, hell take your life
Killing time - you left from the line
Killing time - your turn to kill
Killing time - what do you say?
Killing time - aha, killing time

song performed by Metallica
Added by Lucian Velea
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Defeated

Roy orbison
Defeated, defeated
Defeated Ive been
Defeated, defeated
I didnt win your love
Ive played the game, my love was true
But just the same, I still love you
Defeated, defeated
Now I know the score
Defeated, defeated
Yet I love you even more
My opponent was lucky, didnt even try
Guess Im a bad loser, that is why I cry
The game was fun, but oh, how I know
I should have won, I need you so
Defeated, defeated
The game is through
Ive been defeated
But Im still in love with you

song performed by Roy Orbison
Added by Lucian Velea
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Killing Time

Everybodys going somewhere
See how they stand in line
All complaining their lives are unfair
Too bad for them, too bad for mine
(its the killing time) from now till then
(killing time), not knowing when
Theyre watching me, Im watching them
Standing by the empty mine
(killing time)
Its a killing time
I know it well
Killing time
Until the bell
Too late to change, too soon to tell
And in between, the killing time
(killing time) giving me hell
Up above the stars still shine
Through the poverty and grime
Of the empty streets below
Killing time, nowhere to go
(killing time)
Tell me, brother whats the plan?
Will I be a working man?
And occupy my idle mind
Or kill the time I knew so well
(killing time) giving me hell
Still I can smile at what I see
Soap operas full of vanity
So much wealth and property
Side by side with petty crime
Is that all lifes meant to be?
Commercials full of luxuries
A man has one, a cat has nine
And in between its killing time
(killing time)
Its a killing time
I know it well
Too late to change
Too soon to tell
Still I can smile at what I find
Waiting round and killing time
Bite the bullet
Help me through it
These lunatics will take my mind
Why cant life be more sublime
Than all of this waste and killing time
Killing time
I know it well
Its the killing time

song performed by Kinks
Added by Lucian Velea
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The quality of mercy (conditions apply)

The quality of mercy,
Portia declared,

the quality of mercy is
suspended during the present conflict

the quality of mercy is
not the business of a Minister of Justice

the quality of mercy is
not a matter of individual conscience

the quality of mercy is
too subtle for public discussion
or law

the quality of mercy is
only for Shakespeare and stuff

the quality of mercy is
less stimulating than revenge

the quality of mercy is
no business of yours

the quality of mercy is
no concern of religious authorities
who should stay silent

the quality of mercy is
an outdated concept

the quality of mercy is
nothing to do with forgiveness
or circumstantial evidence
or the remission of sins

the quality of mercy is
no longer a matter of pride

the quality of mercy is
no longer a mark of humanity

the quality of mercy
would be OK if Obama said so

the quality of mercy
is one hell of a hot potato
cooked in oil

[...] Read more

poem by Michael Shepherd
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Z. Comments

CRYSTAL GLOW

Madhur Veena Comment: Who is she? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ....You write good!

Margaret Alice Comment: Beautiful, it stikes as heartfelt words and touches the heart, beautiful sentiments, sorry, I repeat myself, but I am delighted. Your poem is like the trinkets I collect to adorn my personal space, pure joy to read, wonderful! Only a beautiful mind can harbour such sentiments, you have a beautiful mind. I am glad you have found someone that inspires you to such heights and that you share it with us, you make the world a mroe wonderful place.

Margaret Alice Comment: Within the context set by the previous poem, “Cosmic Probe”, the description of a lover’s adoration for his beloved becomes a universal ode sung to the abstract values of love, joy and hope personified by light, colours, fragrance and beauty, qualities the poet assigns to his beloved, thus elevating her to the status of an uplifting force because she brings all these qualities to his attention. The poet recognises that these personified values brings him fulfilment and chose the image of a love relationship to illustrate how this comes about; thus a love poem becomes the vehicle to convey spiritual epiphany.

FRAGRANT JASMINE

Margaret Alice Comment: Your words seem to be directed to a divine entity, you seem to be addressing your adoration to a divinity, and it is wonderful to read of such sublime sentiments kindled in a human soul. Mankind is always lifted up by their vision and awareness of divinity, thank you for such pure, clear diction and sharing your awareness of the sublime with us, you have uplifted me so much by this vision you have created!

Margaret Alice Comment: The poet’s words seem to be directed to a divine entity, express adoration to a divinity who is the personification of wonderful qualities which awakens a sense of the sublime in the human soul. An uplifting vision and awareness of uplifting qualities of innocence represented by a beautiful person.

I WENT THERE TO BID HER ADIEU

Kente Lucy Comment: wow great writing, what a way to bid farewell

Margaret Alice Comment: Sensory experience is elevated by its symbolical meaning, your description of the scene shows two souls becoming one and your awareness of the importance of tempory experience as a symbol of the eternal duration of love and companionship - were temporary experience only valid for one moment in time, it would be a sad world, but once it is seen as a symbol of eternal things, it becomes enchanting.

I’M INCOMPLETE WITHOUT YOU

Margaret Alice Comment: You elevate the humnan experience of longing for love to a striving for sublimity in uniting with a beloved person, and this poem is stirring, your style of writing is effective, everything flows together perfectly.

Margaret Alice Comment:

'To a resplendent glow of celestial flow
And two split halves unite never to part.'

Reading your fluent poems is a delight, I have to tear myself away and return to the life of a drudge, but what a treasure trove of jewels you made for the weary soul who needs to contemplate higher ideals from time to time!

IN CELESTIAL WINGS

Margaret Alice Comment: When you describe how you are strengthened by your loved one, it is clear that your inner flame is so strong that you need not fear growing old, your spirit seems to become stronger, you manage to convey this impression by your striking poetry. It is a privilege to read your work.

Obed Dela Cruz Comment: wow.... i remembered will shakespeare.... nice poem!

Margaret Alice Comment: The poet has transcended the barriers of time and space by becoming an image of his beloved and being able to find peace in the joy he confers to his beloved.

'You transcend my limits, transcend my soul, I forget my distress in your thoughts And discover my peace in your joy, For, I’m mere image of you, my beloved.'

Margaret Alice Comment: You are my peace and solace, I know, I am, yours too; A mere flash of your thoughts Enlivens my tired soul And fills me with light, peace and solace, A giant in new world, I become, I rise to divine heights in celestial wings. How I desire to reciprocate To fill you with light and inner strength raise you to divine heights; I must cross over nd hold you in arms, light up your soul, Fill you with strength from my inner core, Wipe away your tears burst out in pure joy How I yearn to instill hope and confidence in you we never part And we shall wait, till time comes right. the flame in my soul always seeks you, you transcend my limits, transcend my soul, I forget my distress in your thoughts And discover my peace in your joy, For, I’m mere image of you, my beloved.

RAGING FIRE

[...] Read more

poem by Praveen Kumar
Added by Poetry Lover
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When I wasn't breathing

When I wasn’t blissfully snoring; I was still inexhaustibly writing a
cistern of stupendously rhapsodic and gloriously majestic Immortal Love
Poetry,

When I wasn’t unsurpassably fantasizing; I was still inexhaustibly
writing a
garden of ingeniously magical and miraculously mitigating Immortal Love
Poetry,

When I wasn’t superbly adventuring; I was still inexhaustibly writing
an
ocean of bountifully resplendent and timelessly undefeated Immortal
Love
Poetry,

When I wasn’t scrumptiously relishing; I was still inexhaustibly
writing a
playground of optimistically enlightening and unbelievably royal
Immortal
Love Poetry,

When I wasn’t limitlessly triumphing; I was still inexhaustibly writing
a
cascade of beautifully panoramic and effulgently liberating Immortal
Love
Poetry,

When I wasn’t pricelessly smiling; I was still inexhaustibly writing a
lantern of unendingly vibrant and inscrutably tantalizing Immortal Love
Poetry,

When I wasn’t gloriously partying; I was still inexhaustibly writing a
paradise of eternally vivacious and pristinely redolent Immortal Love
Poetry,

When I wasn’t unassailably inspiring; I was still inexhaustibly writing
a
festoon of incredulously ameliorating and perpetually compassionate
Immortal
Love Poetry,

When I wasn’t magnanimously feasting; I was still inexhaustibly writing
a
cocoon of symbiotically philanthropic and ubiquitously coalescing
Immortal
Love Poetry,

When I wasn’t ebulliently fornicating; I was still inexhaustibly
writing a
mist of wonderfully reinvigorating and blessedly burgeoning Immortal

[...] Read more

poem by Nikhil Parekh
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Breaking All The Rules

You don't know what I know, do yah.
Do yah, do yah.

Deceit defeated will end all misdeeds.

You don't know what I know, do yah.
Do yah, do yah.

Deceit defeated will end all misdeeds.

You'll be stopped from braking all the rules.
And...
Stopped from doing tricky things you do.

You don't know what I know, do yah.
Do yah, do yah.
You don't know what I know.

You don't know what I know, do yah.
Do yah, do yah.
You don't know what I know.

Many want it kept pursued,
The...
Duping and the suckering to fool,
THEY DO!

You don't know what I know, do yah.
Do yah, do yah.
You don't know what I know.

You don't know what I know, do yah.
Do yah, do yah.
You don't know what I know.

An ending to the breaking all the rules,
Is coming soon...
With deceit defeated.
With deceit defeated.
And...
None of it to be repeated deeds.

I can feel it!

You don't know what I know, do yah.
Do yah, do yah...
Deceit defeated will end these misdeeds.

An ending to the breaking all the rules,
Is coming...

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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VIII. Dominus Hyacinthus de Archangelis, Pauperum Procurator

Ah, my Giacinto, he's no ruddy rogue,
Is not Cinone? What, to-day we're eight?
Seven and one's eight, I hope, old curly-pate!
—Branches me out his verb-tree on the slate,
Amo-as-avi-atum-are-ans,
Up to -aturus, person, tense, and mood,
Quies me cum subjunctivo (I could cry)
And chews Corderius with his morning crust!
Look eight years onward, and he's perched, he's perched
Dapper and deft on stool beside this chair,
Cinozzo, Cinoncello, who but he?
—Trying his milk-teeth on some crusty case
Like this, papa shall triturate full soon
To smooth Papinianian pulp!

It trots
Already through my head, though noon be now,
Does supper-time and what belongs to eve.
Dispose, O Don, o' the day, first work then play!
—The proverb bids. And "then" means, won't we hold
Our little yearly lovesome frolic feast,
Cinuolo's birth-night, Cinicello's own,
That makes gruff January grin perforce!
For too contagious grows the mirth, the warmth
Escaping from so many hearts at once—
When the good wife, buxom and bonny yet,
Jokes the hale grandsire,—such are just the sort
To go off suddenly,—he who hides the key
O' the box beneath his pillow every night,—
Which box may hold a parchment (someone thinks)
Will show a scribbled something like a name
"Cinino, Ciniccino," near the end,
"To whom I give and I bequeath my lands,
"Estates, tenements, hereditaments,
"When I decease as honest grandsire ought."
Wherefore—yet this one time again perhaps—
Shan't my Orvieto fuddle his old nose!
Then, uncles, one or the other, well i' the world,
May—drop in, merely?—trudge through rain and wind,
Rather! The smell-feasts rouse them at the hint
There's cookery in a certain dwelling-place!
Gossips, too, each with keepsake in his poke,
Will pick the way, thrid lane by lantern-light,
And so find door, put galligaskin off
At entry of a decent domicile
Cornered in snug Condotti,—all for love,
All to crush cup with Cinucciatolo!

Well,
Let others climb the heights o' the court, the camp!

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Letting Go

I still hear my voice
It's calling in my head
But if I had only one choice
I'd leave it left unsaid
Unsaid
I try to reach you but my senses got so blurry
And I, try to teach you but my words come out so muddied
And I, if there's one thing that I should let you know
It's go away
But I keep fighting and I'm finding your injustice
It's just killing me (killing you)
I cannot breathe
Just let me go (killing me)
Or this will break me
My inner voices
Are part of my disease
'Cause it's pushing me to hurt you
But killing you is just killing me
If I can't have you and the dreams you put inside my head
I would not leave you but I keep you here until our death
You think it's over, there's a gun in my head full of lead
I want to use it but I can't abuse it and that's why
It's just killing me (killing you)
I cannot breathe
Just let me go (killing me)
Or this will break me
My inner voices
Are part of my disease
'Cause it's pushing me to hurt you
But killing you is just killing me
What are you waiting for?
You will never get away
What are you waiting for?
You will not get away
What are you waiting for?
You will never get away
What are you waiting for?
You will not get away
(Unsaid)
My inner voices
Are part of my disease
'Cause it's pushing me to hurt you
But killing me you just killing me
'Cause killing you is killing me

song performed by Ill NiO
Added by Lucian Velea
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Letting Go

I still hear my voice
It's calling in my head
But if I had only one choice
I'd leave it left unsaid
Unsaid
I try to reach you but my senses got so blurry
And I, try to teach you but my words come out so muddied
And I, if there's one thing that I should let you know
It's go away
But I keep fighting and I'm finding your injustice
It's just killing me (killing you)
I cannot breathe
Just let me go (killing me)
Or this will break me
My inner voices
Are part of my disease
'Cause it's pushing me to hurt you
But killing you is just killing me
If I can't have you and the dreams you put inside my head
I would not leave you but I keep you here until our death
You think it's over, there's a gun in my head full of lead
I want to use it but I can't abuse it and that's why
It's just killing me (killing you)
I cannot breathe
Just let me go (killing me)
Or this will break me
My inner voices
Are part of my disease
'Cause it's pushing me to hurt you
But killing you is just killing me
What are you waiting for?
You will never get away
What are you waiting for?
You will not get away
What are you waiting for?
You will never get away
What are you waiting for?
You will not get away
(Unsaid)
My inner voices
Are part of my disease
'Cause it's pushing me to hurt you
But killing me you just killing me
'Cause killing you is killing me

song performed by Ill NiO
Added by Lucian Velea
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XI. Guido

You are the Cardinal Acciaiuoli, and you,
Abate Panciatichi—two good Tuscan names:
Acciaiuoli—ah, your ancestor it was
Built the huge battlemented convent-block
Over the little forky flashing Greve
That takes the quick turn at the foot o' the hill
Just as one first sees Florence: oh those days!
'T is Ema, though, the other rivulet,
The one-arched brown brick bridge yawns over,—yes,
Gallop and go five minutes, and you gain
The Roman Gate from where the Ema's bridged:
Kingfishers fly there: how I see the bend
O'erturreted by Certosa which he built,
That Senescal (we styled him) of your House!
I do adjure you, help me, Sirs! My blood
Comes from as far a source: ought it to end
This way, by leakage through their scaffold-planks
Into Rome's sink where her red refuse runs?
Sirs, I beseech you by blood-sympathy,
If there be any vile experiment
In the air,—if this your visit simply prove,
When all's done, just a well-intentioned trick,
That tries for truth truer than truth itself,
By startling up a man, ere break of day,
To tell him he must die at sunset,—pshaw!
That man's a Franceschini; feel his pulse,
Laugh at your folly, and let's all go sleep!
You have my last word,—innocent am I
As Innocent my Pope and murderer,
Innocent as a babe, as Mary's own,
As Mary's self,—I said, say and repeat,—
And why, then, should I die twelve hours hence? I—
Whom, not twelve hours ago, the gaoler bade
Turn to my straw-truss, settle and sleep sound
That I might wake the sooner, promptlier pay
His due of meat-and-drink-indulgence, cross
His palm with fee of the good-hand, beside,
As gallants use who go at large again!
For why? All honest Rome approved my part;
Whoever owned wife, sister, daughter,—nay,
Mistress,—had any shadow of any right
That looks like right, and, all the more resolved,
Held it with tooth and nail,—these manly men
Approved! I being for Rome, Rome was for me.
Then, there's the point reserved, the subterfuge
My lawyers held by, kept for last resource,
Firm should all else,—the impossible fancy!—fail,
And sneaking burgess-spirit win the day.
The knaves! One plea at least would hold,—they laughed,—
One grappling-iron scratch the bottom-rock

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau, Saviour of Society

Epigraph

Υδραν φονεύσας, μυρίων τ᾽ ἄλλων πόνων
διῆλθον ἀγέλας . . .
τὸ λοίσθιον δὲ τόνδ᾽ ἔτλην τάλας πόνον,
. . . δῶμα θριγκῶσαι κακοῖς.

I slew the Hydra, and from labour pass'd
To labour — tribes of labours! Till, at last,
Attempting one more labour, in a trice,
Alack, with ills I crowned the edifice.

You have seen better days, dear? So have I —
And worse too, for they brought no such bud-mouth
As yours to lisp "You wish you knew me!" Well,
Wise men, 't is said, have sometimes wished the same,
And wished and had their trouble for their pains.
Suppose my Œdipus should lurk at last
Under a pork-pie hat and crinoline,
And, latish, pounce on Sphynx in Leicester Square?
Or likelier, what if Sphynx in wise old age,
Grown sick of snapping foolish people's heads,
And jealous for her riddle's proper rede, —
Jealous that the good trick which served the turn
Have justice rendered it, nor class one day
With friend Home's stilts and tongs and medium-ware,—
What if the once redoubted Sphynx, I say,
(Because night draws on, and the sands increase,
And desert-whispers grow a prophecy)
Tell all to Corinth of her own accord.
Bright Corinth, not dull Thebes, for Lais' sake,
Who finds me hardly grey, and likes my nose,
And thinks a man of sixty at the prime?
Good! It shall be! Revealment of myself!
But listen, for we must co-operate;
I don't drink tea: permit me the cigar!
First, how to make the matter plain, of course —
What was the law by which I lived. Let 's see:
Ay, we must take one instant of my life
Spent sitting by your side in this neat room:
Watch well the way I use it, and don't laugh!
Here's paper on the table, pen and ink:
Give me the soiled bit — not the pretty rose!
See! having sat an hour, I'm rested now,
Therefore want work: and spy no better work
For eye and hand and mind that guides them both,
During this instant, than to draw my pen
From blot One — thus — up, up to blot Two — thus —
Which I at last reach, thus, and here's my line
Five inches long and tolerably straight:

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning (1871)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Science Fiction Woman

She was my science fiction woman,
I was her science fiction man,
Yet our love was no fiction
In our science fiction land.

I wore my science fiction spacesuit,
She wore a spacesuit just like mine,
While we were floating together
In our science fiction minds.

She said her name was Taylor Trippy-
A flower child light years beyond-
She was a science fiction hippy-
A spacey and vivacious blonde.

She told me of our global warming,
Greenhouse gases, acid rain,
She told me everything I know
About the structure of the brain.

So we cruised through constellations
In our science fiction ship,
Transcending time and generations-
Forever free, forever hip.

She came from some unknown planet
In some uncharted galaxy,
And we were both kindred souls
In our cosmic fantasy.

And I don't know how I knew her
Or how we came to meet that night-
She was my science fiction woman,
Who traveled at the speed of light.

At night I look upon the ocean,
The distant stars where she might be-
She was my science fiction woman,
Who set my heart forever free.

June 17,2008

poem by Alexander Shaumyan
Added by Poetry Lover
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[9] O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!

O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!
[LOVE POEMS]

POET: MAHENDRA BHATNAGAR

POEMS

1 Passion And Compassion / 1
2 Affection
3 Willing To Live
4 Passion And Compassion / 2
5 Boon
6 Remembrance
7 Pretext
8 To A Distant Person
9 Perception
10 Conclusion
10 You (1)
11 Symbol
12 You (2)
13 In Vain
14 One Night
15 Suddenly
16 Meeting
17 Touch
18 Face To Face
19 Co-Traveller
20 Once And Once only
21 Touchstone
22 In Chorus
23 Good Omens
24 Even Then
25 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (1)
26 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (2)
27 Life Aspirant
28 To The Condemned Woman
29 A Submission
30 At Midday
31 I Accept
32 Who Are You?
33 Solicitation
34 Accept Me
35 Again After Ages …
36 Day-Dreaming
37 Who Are You?
38 You Embellished In Song

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poem by Mahendra Bhatnagar
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Writing To

Writing to feel
Writing to heal
Writing to steal
Writing every emotion..
With such a white background.
It makes no sound
Even as the keys I pound.
Let my words have bite
Let from my words drip out meanings beyond meanings
Its something I try to be constantly be achieving.

Writing to feel
Writing to heal
Writing to steal
I want every heart and mind
Sucked in cause this is my world stage
No sense of the time.
Never to turn the page
Stuck in to a world oh so oh so fine

Writing to feel
Writing to heal
Writing to steal
Listen to her melody, as she sings.
Let chaos reign down from the skies
What will this day really bring?
Will the letter say good bye?
Will it mend everything?

Making everything better.
Destroying all the consequences
That exist in your world.
Welcome to the place I visit daily.
Inspirational maddness,
It attacks, attacks, and attacks.
With perfect sadness
I must let go once more.
And then the words hit the floor

Writing to feel
Writing to heal.
Writing to steal.
Becoming one with my soul.
Fighting for its one and only control.
Its mine, Its mine. Its mine.
In this reality it subsequently is not
A constant questioning of what?

Writing to feel
Writing to heal.

[...] Read more

poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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