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The Distance

Under the same roof they live.
Yet they remain unheard to each other.
One is stuck with Facebook,
Glued onto her mobile is another.
The world is shrinking, it is true.
What about the distance between the two?

poem by Kingshuk Chakraborty
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Goin Mobile

Im goin home
Im goin home
And when I wanna go home
And when I wanna go home
Im goin mobile
Im goin mobile
Well, Im gonna find a home
Well, Im gonna find a home
And well see how it feels
And well see how it feels
Goin mobile
Goin mobile
Keep me movin
Keep me movin
I can pull up by the curb
I can pull up by the curb
I can make it on the road
I can make it on the road
Goin mobile
Goin mobile
I can stop in any street
I can stop in any street
And talk with people that we meet
And talk with people that we meet
Goin mobile
Goin mobile
Keep me movin
Keep me movin
Out in the woods
Out in the woods
Or in the city
Or in the city
Its all the same to me
Its all the same to me
When Im drivin free, the worlds my home
When Im drivin free, the worlds my home
When Im mobile
When Im mobile
Hee, hoo!
Hee, hoo!
Beep beep!
Beep beep!
Play the tape machine
Play the tape machine
Make the toast and tea
Make the toast and tea
When Im mobile
When Im mobile
Well I can lay in bed
Well I can lay in bed

[...] Read more

song performed by Who
Added by Lucian Velea
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Upwardly MobileBreasts

Upwardly mobile breasts
link together East and West,
occupying cyberspace
to tease, to please, as they unbrace -
spring feeding fantasy oppressed -
that gravity which, second-guessed,
would temper passions. These, apace,
grow, flow with honey, milk, chased chaste.

Man, mammal mammary obsessed,
manhandles, memory manifests
'I' level interest interface_
_sings [t]issues in both good, poor taste,
can't displace attention best
focused elsewhere, soul possessed
by magnet tandem ride, slim waist,

upwardly mobile, undepressed.
D stands for Double bubble laced,
succulence symetric spaced
to dot eyes until life’s digressed
by bridal bridle, dispossessed.

Upwardly mobile breasts -
down and out, or corset pressed,
pear or apple pair set pace.
Fancy free, corset compressed
holding out or, on request,
outstanding assets in life's quest.
'Eye...cons' which, since time, showcased,
imagination ever graced.

Man, mental midget, seems impressed
by mammoth mountains, curves which crest
from chest to rib-cage, touching base
with fancy's fables few detest.
Fun bags balloon 'bove Everest,
peak projections never rest,
[c]rush hour preoccupations taste
angst lest dream disintegrates.

Upwardly mobile breasts -
in the pink, admired with zest, -
swift soar above the commonplace,
'To wit' says one, 'To woo I'll case
the joint to free restraints! ' 'Obsessed! '
replies the other, 'feathered nest.'
Some, spread, taut drawn to taunt Time's haste,
lest silly cones should run to waste.

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
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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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Going Mobile

I'm goin' home
And when I wanna go home
I'm goin' mobile
Well, I'm gonna find a home
And we'll see how it feels
Goin' mobile
Keep me movin'
I can pull up by the curb
I can make it on the road
Goin' mobile
I can stop in any street
And talk with people that we meet
Goin' mobile
Keep me movin'
Out in the woods
Or in the city
It's all the same to me
When I'm drivin' free, the world's my home
When I'm mobile
Hee, hoo!
beep beep!
Play the tape machine
Make the toast and tea
When I'm mobile
Well I can lay in bed
With only highway ahead
When I'm mobile
Keep me movin'
Keep me movin'
Over 50
Keep me groovin'
Just a hippie gypsy
Come on move now
Movin'
Keep me movin', yeah
Keep me movin', groovin', groovin', yeah
Movin', Yeah
Mobile, mobile, mobile, mobile, ...
I don't care about pollution
I'm an air-conditioned gypsy
That's my solution
Watch the police and the tax man miss me
I'm mobile
Oooooh, yeah, hee!
Mobile, mobile, mobile yeah

song performed by Who
Added by Lucian Velea
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Stuck Inside Of Mobile With The Memphis Blues Again

Oh, the ragman draws circles
Up and down the block.
Id ask him what the matter was
But I know that he dont talk.
And the ladies treat me kindly
And furnish me with tape,
But deep inside my heart
I know I cant escape.
Oh, mama, can this really be the end,
To be stuck inside of mobile
With the memphis blues again.
Well, shakespeare, hes in the alley
With his pointed shoes and his bells,
Speaking to some french girl,
Who says she knows me well.
And I would send a message
To find out if shes talked,
But the post office has been stolen
And the mailbox is locked.
Oh, mama, can this really be the end,
To be stuck inside of mobile
With the memphis blues again.
Mona tried to tell me
To stay away from the train line.
She said that all the railroad men
Just drink up your blood like wine.
An I said, oh, I didnt know that,
But then again, theres only one Ive met
An he just smoked my eyelids
An punched my cigarette.
Oh, mama, can this really be the end,
To be stuck inside of mobile
With the memphis blues again.
Grandpa died last week
And now hes buried in the rocks,
But everybody still talks about
How badly they were shocked.
But me, I expected it to happen,
I knew hed lost control
When he built a fire on main street
And shot it full of holes.
Oh, mama, can this really be the end,
To be stuck inside of mobile
With the memphis blues again.
Now the senator came down here
Showing evryone his gun,
Handing out free tickets
To the wedding of his son.
An me, I nearly got busted
An wouldnt it be my luck

[...] Read more

song performed by Bob Dylan
Added by Lucian Velea
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The 'Poem A Day' Project - Day 16

I’ve lost my mobile phone
I’m feeling all alone
I can’t connect with my friends out there
I’ve lost my mobile phone

I’ve lost my mobile phone
I miss its ringing tone
I’ve searched for it everywhere
I’ve lost my mobile phone

I’ve lost my mobile phone
And now I cannot roam
I must stay near in case it rings
I’ve lost my mobile phone

I’ve lost my mobile phone
I do not wish to moan
It has numbers, dates and all kinds of things
I’ve lost my mobile phone

I’ve lost my mobile phone
And now I guess I’m prone
To wander like a lost zombie
I’ve lost my mobile phone

I’ve lost my mobile phone
I’ve no mind of my own
Without it there to organise me
I’ve lost my mobile phone

poem by Flying Lemming
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[9] O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!

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

POET: MAHENDRA BHATNAGAR

POEMS

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

[...] Read more

poem by Mahendra Bhatnagar
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Upwardly Mobile Breasts Current Version

Upwardly mobile breasts
link together East and West,
occupying cyberspace
to tease, to please, as they unbrace,
spring feeding fantasy oppressed,
that gravity which, second-guessed,
would temper passions. These, apace,
grow, flow with honey, milk, chased chaste.

Upwardly mobile breasts
time time. Against time each protests,
the morals of the marketplace,
reject as callous, coarse, misplaced
manipulative maladress.
By tenderness they're more impressed.
Pneumatic cushions chaste encase
chased goals which souls should not debase.

Man, mammal mammary obsessed,
manhandles, memory manifests
'I' level interest interface
_sings [t]issues in both good, poor taste,
can't displace attention best
focused elsewhere, soul possessed
by magnet tandem ride, slim waist,
upwardly mobile, undepressed.
D stands for Double bubble laced,
succulence asymetric spaced
to dot eyes until life's digressed
by bridal bridle dispossesed.

Upwardly mobile breasts,
down and out, or corset pressed,
pear or apple pair set pace.
Fancy free, corset compressed
holding out or, on request,
outstanding assets in life's quest.
'Eye...cons' which, since time, showcased,
imagination ever graced.

Mental midgets, men molest
magnificence, soft curves that crest,
mammoth mounts, lose sense as, stressed,
off limits spend cents, joy joints case
from chest to rib-cage, touching base
with fancy's fables few detest.
Fun bags balloon 'bove Everest,
peak projections never rest,
fun to strum or to digest,
[c]rush hour preoccupations taste

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
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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
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VI. Giuseppe Caponsacchi

Answer you, Sirs? Do I understand aright?
Have patience! In this sudden smoke from hell,—
So things disguise themselves,—I cannot see
My own hand held thus broad before my face
And know it again. Answer you? Then that means
Tell over twice what I, the first time, told
Six months ago: 't was here, I do believe,
Fronting you same three in this very room,
I stood and told you: yet now no one laughs,
Who then … nay, dear my lords, but laugh you did,
As good as laugh, what in a judge we style
Laughter—no levity, nothing indecorous, lords!
Only,—I think I apprehend the mood:
There was the blameless shrug, permissible smirk,
The pen's pretence at play with the pursed mouth,
The titter stifled in the hollow palm
Which rubbed the eyebrow and caressed the nose,
When I first told my tale: they meant, you know,
"The sly one, all this we are bound believe!
"Well, he can say no other than what he says.
"We have been young, too,—come, there's greater guilt!
"Let him but decently disembroil himself,
"Scramble from out the scrape nor move the mud,—
"We solid ones may risk a finger-stretch!
And now you sit as grave, stare as aghast
As if I were a phantom: now 't is—"Friend,
"Collect yourself!"—no laughing matter more—
"Counsel the Court in this extremity,
"Tell us again!"—tell that, for telling which,
I got the jocular piece of punishment,
Was sent to lounge a little in the place
Whence now of a sudden here you summon me
To take the intelligence from just—your lips!
You, Judge Tommati, who then tittered most,—
That she I helped eight months since to escape
Her husband, was retaken by the same,
Three days ago, if I have seized your sense,—
(I being disallowed to interfere,
Meddle or make in a matter none of mine,
For you and law were guardians quite enough
O' the innocent, without a pert priest's help)—
And that he has butchered her accordingly,
As she foretold and as myself believed,—
And, so foretelling and believing so,
We were punished, both of us, the merry way:
Therefore, tell once again the tale! For what?
Pompilia is only dying while I speak!
Why does the mirth hang fire and miss the smile?
My masters, there's an old book, you should con
For strange adventures, applicable yet,

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Satan Absolved

(In the antechamber of Heaven. Satan walks alone. Angels in groups conversing.)
Satan. To--day is the Lord's ``day.'' Once more on His good pleasure
I, the Heresiarch, wait and pace these halls at leisure
Among the Orthodox, the unfallen Sons of God.
How sweet in truth Heaven is, its floors of sandal wood,
Its old--world furniture, its linen long in press,
Its incense, mummeries, flowers, its scent of holiness!
Each house has its own smell. The smell of Heaven to me
Intoxicates and haunts,--and hurts. Who would not be
God's liveried servant here, the slave of His behest,
Rather than reign outside? I like good things the best,
Fair things, things innocent; and gladly, if He willed,
Would enter His Saints' kingdom--even as a little child.

[Laughs. I have come to make my peace, to crave a full amaun,
Peace, pardon, reconcilement, truce to our daggers--drawn,
Which have so long distraught the fair wise Universe,
An end to my rebellion and the mortal curse
Of always evil--doing. He will mayhap agree
I was less wholly wrong about Humanity
The day I dared to warn His wisdom of that flaw.
It was at least the truth, the whole truth, I foresaw
When He must needs create that simian ``in His own
Image and likeness.'' Faugh! the unseemly carrion!
I claim a new revision and with proofs in hand,
No Job now in my path to foil me and withstand.
Oh, I will serve Him well!
[Certain Angels approach. But who are these that come
With their grieved faces pale and eyes of martyrdom?
Not our good Sons of God? They stop, gesticulate,
Argue apart, some weep,--weep, here within Heaven's gate!
Sob almost in God's sight! ay, real salt human tears,
Such as no Spirit wept these thrice three thousand years.
The last shed were my own, that night of reprobation
When I unsheathed my sword and headed the lost nation.
Since then not one of them has spoken above his breath
Or whispered in these courts one word of life or death
Displeasing to the Lord. No Seraph of them all,
Save I this day each year, has dared to cross Heaven's hall
And give voice to ill news, an unwelcome truth to Him.
Not Michael's self hath dared, prince of the Seraphim.
Yet all now wail aloud.--What ails ye, brethren? Speak!
Are ye too in rebellion? Angels. Satan, no. But weak
With our long earthly toil, the unthankful care of Man.

Satan. Ye have in truth good cause.

Angels. And we would know God's plan,
His true thought for the world, the wherefore and the why
Of His long patience mocked, His name in jeopardy.

[...] Read more

poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Mobile

Went back home again
this sucks gotta pack up and leave again
say goodbye to all my friends
can't say when I'll be there again
It's time now to turn around
Turn my back on
EVERYTHING (turn my back on) everything....

[chorus]
Everythings changing when I turn around all out of my control I'm a mobile.
Everythings changing when I turn around all out of my control I'm a mobile.

Start back at this life
Stretch myself back into the vibe
I'm waking up to say I've tried
Instead of waking up to another TV GUIDE
It's time now to turn around
Turn and walk on this crazy ground oh oh oh....

[chorus]
Everythings changing when I turn around all out of my control I'm a mobile
Everythings changing out of what I know everywhere I go I'm a mobile
I'm a mobile

Hanging from the ceiling lifes a mobile spinning round
with mixed feelings crazy and wild ...
sometimes I wanna SCREAM OUT LOUD ....

Everythings changing
everywhere I go
All out of my control
Everythings changing
everywhere I go out of what I know

la la la la la la (la la)
la la la la la la (la la)
la la la la la la (la la la)
la la la la la la

[chorus]
Everythings changing when I turn around all out of my control I'm a mobile
Everythings changing out of what I know everywhere I go I'm a mobile
I'm a mobile

song performed by Avril Lavigne from Let Go
Added by Lucian Velea
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Live 4 Love

{last words from the cockpit}
Lauch procedure commence
Countdown start
10,9,8,7,6,5,4
Keep goin
Acceleration into temporal space continuum now begins...
30,000 feet and still-a-counting (live 4 love)
The attack on my plane is steadily mounting (live 4 love)
They killed my buddy, but Im supposed to feel nothing (live 4 love)
How can I live 4 love? Im calling...
Live 4 love
Live 4 love - Im calling...
Live 4 love - Im calling...
Live 4 love
Kicked out of my home at 17 (live 4 love) ((get outta here))
A real family,
Now what does that mean (what does that mean) (live 4 love)
Dont nobody know the trouble Ive seen (live 4 love)
How can I live 4 love? Im calling...
Live 4 love
Live 4 love
Live 4 love - calling, Im calling
Live 4 love
My mission, so they said, was just 2 drop the bombs
Acceleration into temporal space continuum now begins...
Just like I got no conscience, just like I got no qualms
Alpha 7, acknowledge
Now what does that mean?
Go tommy go, go tommy go
Go tommy go, go tommy go
Go tommy go, go tommy go
Go tommy go, go tommy go
So here, my target is approaching
The angel on my shoulder starts coaching
Live 4 love, without love u dont live
Boom - I take a deep breath
Is it boom - life?
Is it boom - death?
(live 4 love)
Maybe I was better off staying in school (live 4 love)
But everybody said flying planes was cool (live 4 love)
Its so easy 4 them 2 say
Cuz they never have to go through
How can I live 4 love? (live 4 love) Im calling
Live 4 love - Im calling
Live 4 love - Im calling
Live 4 love
Live 4 love (live 4 love)
Live 4 love
Live 4 love

[...] Read more

song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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Stuck With You

Weve had some fun, and yes weve had our ups and downs
Been down that rocky road, but here we are, still around
We thought about someone else, but neither one took the bait
We thought about breaking up, but now we know its much too late
We are bound by all the rest
Like the same phone number
All the same friends
And the same address
Yes, its true, (yes its true) I am happy to be stuck with you
Yes, its true, (yes its true) Im so happy to be stuck with you
cause I can see, (I can see) that youre happy to be stuck with me
Weve had our doubts, we never took them seriously
And weve had our ins and outs, but thats the way its supposed to be
We thought about giving up, but we could never stay away
Thought about breaking up, but now we know its much too late
And its no great mystery
If we change our minds
Eventually, its back to you and me
Yes, its true, (yes its true) I am happy to be stuck with you
Yes, its true, (yes its true) Im so happy to be stuck with you
cause I can see, (I can see) that youre happy to be stuck with me
We are bound by all the rest
Like the same phone number
All the same friends
And the same address
Yes, its true, (yes its true) I am happy to be stuck with you
Yes, its true, (yes its true) Im so happy to be stuck with you
cause I can see, (I can see) that youre happy to be stuck with me
(yes its true) Im so happy to be stuck with you
Im happy to be stuck with you
Happy to be stuck with you.

song performed by Huey Lewis And The News
Added by Lucian Velea
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Just Stuck In A Warp, Zone

Stuck in a warp,
Zone.
And united with those delighted.
To never be made convinced,
Common sense is beneficial.

Just stuck in a warp,
Zone.
And united with those delighted.
To...
Never be made convinced,
Common sense is beneficial.

Stuck in a warp,
Zone.
So far out they're looking down at stars.
Stuck in a warp,
Zone.
Not one of them has heard of Jupiter OR Mars.
Stuck in a warp,
Zone.
Sniffin', snortin', totin', weezin'.
Stuck in a warp,
Zone.
Hackin', coughin', chokin', sneezin'.
Stuck in a warp,
Zone.
And united with those delighted.
To never be made convinced,
Common sense is beneficial.

Sniffin', snortin', totin', weezin'.
Stuck in a warp,
Zone.
Hackin', coughin', chokin', sneezin'.
Stuck in a warp,
Zone.
Noddin', dozin', sleepin' deepened.
Stuck in a warp,
Zone.
Noddin', dozin', sleepin' deepened.
Stuck in a warp,
Zone.
Noddin', dozin', sleepin' deepened.
Stuck in a warp,
Zone.
And united with those delighted.
To...
Never be made convinced,
Common sense is beneficial

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Long Distance

Spent last winter playing in the sand
With the prisoners of the motherland
Damn hotel is feeling like a cell
And even paradise can be so cruel
Sitting by the swimming pool
Trying to keep my head together
In that hot australia weather
Three days to kill and my per diems getting low
cause I spent all my money calling long distance
Calling long distance, such a long way from home
Am I talking to long distance, can you put me through?
Twelve thousand miles but Ive got not resistance,
Long distance, long distance, long distance, long distance
Now the road hogs face is turning red
Larrys still asleep in bed
Romeo he cant get no head at all
And the doctor looks on so annoyed
You disappoint me, mr. boyd
And the electric dwarf wishes he was six foot tall
Now romeos patience is wearing thin
Cmon baby, let me in
Its five a.m. and Ive been creeping round the hall
Got no resistance calling long distance
You sound so close but your such a long way from home
Am I talking to long distance, can you put me through?
Twelve thousand miles but Ive got not resistance,
Long distance, long distance, long distance, long distance
Still no points for my merrymen,
Except ricard, he just scored ten
Now road hogs getting drunk again
And I only get to hold my pen
Instead of what I love to hold the most.
I feel so lonesome I could cry
Count the hours as they roll by
Its day time now
I think Ill make a call
Hello long distance, calling long distance
You sound so close but youre such a long way from home
Youre such a long way from home
Have to admit I got no resistance to the red light on the wall
The message said I got a call,
Long distance, long distance, long distance, long distance

song performed by Kinks
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Third Monarchy, being the Grecian, beginning under Alexander the Great in the 112. Olympiad.

Great Alexander was wise Philips son,
He to Amyntas, Kings of Macedon;
The cruel proud Olympias was his Mother,
She to Epirus warlike King was daughter.
This Prince (his father by Pausanias slain)
The twenty first of's age began to reign.
Great were the Gifts of nature which he had,
His education much to those did adde:
By art and nature both he was made fit,
To 'complish that which long before was writ.
The very day of his Nativity
To ground was burnt Dianaes Temple high:
An Omen to their near approaching woe,
Whose glory to the earth this king did throw.
His Rule to Greece he scorn'd should be confin'd,
The Universe scarce bound his proud vast mind.
This is the He-Goat which from Grecia came,
That ran in Choler on the Persian Ram,
That brake his horns, that threw him on the ground
To save him from his might no man was found:
Philip on this great Conquest had an eye,
But death did terminate those thoughts so high.
The Greeks had chose him Captain General,
Which honour to his Son did now befall.
(For as Worlds Monarch now we speak not on,
But as the King of little Macedon)
Restless both day and night his heart then was,
His high resolves which way to bring to pass;
Yet for a while in Greece is forc'd to stay,
Which makes each moment seem more then a day.
Thebes and stiff Athens both 'gainst him rebel,
Their mutinies by valour doth he quell.
This done against both right and natures Laws,
His kinsmen put to death, who gave no cause;
That no rebellion in in his absence be,
Nor making Title unto Sovereignty.
And all whom he suspects or fears will climbe,
Now taste of death least they deserv'd in time,
Nor wonder is t if he in blood begin,
For Cruelty was his parental sin,
Thus eased now of troubles and of fears,
Next spring his course to Asia he steers;
Leavs Sage Antipater, at home to sway,
And through the Hellispont his Ships made way.
Coming to Land, his dart on shore he throws,
Then with alacrity he after goes;
And with a bount'ous heart and courage brave,
His little wealth among his Souldiers gave.
And being ask'd what for himself was left,
Reply'd, enough, sith only hope he kept.

[...] Read more

poem by Anne Bradstreet
Added by Poetry Lover
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I. The Ring and the Book

Do you see this Ring?
'T is Rome-work, made to match
(By Castellani's imitative craft)
Etrurian circlets found, some happy morn,
After a dropping April; found alive
Spark-like 'mid unearthed slope-side figtree-roots
That roof old tombs at Chiusi: soft, you see,
Yet crisp as jewel-cutting. There's one trick,
(Craftsmen instruct me) one approved device
And but one, fits such slivers of pure gold
As this was,—such mere oozings from the mine,
Virgin as oval tawny pendent tear
At beehive-edge when ripened combs o'erflow,—
To bear the file's tooth and the hammer's tap:
Since hammer needs must widen out the round,
And file emboss it fine with lily-flowers,
Ere the stuff grow a ring-thing right to wear.
That trick is, the artificer melts up wax
With honey, so to speak; he mingles gold
With gold's alloy, and, duly tempering both,
Effects a manageable mass, then works:
But his work ended, once the thing a ring,
Oh, there's repristination! Just a spirt
O' the proper fiery acid o'er its face,
And forth the alloy unfastened flies in fume;
While, self-sufficient now, the shape remains,
The rondure brave, the lilied loveliness,
Gold as it was, is, shall be evermore:
Prime nature with an added artistry—
No carat lost, and you have gained a ring.
What of it? 'T is a figure, a symbol, say;
A thing's sign: now for the thing signified.

Do you see this square old yellow Book, I toss
I' the air, and catch again, and twirl about
By the crumpled vellum covers,—pure crude fact
Secreted from man's life when hearts beat hard,
And brains, high-blooded, ticked two centuries since?
Examine it yourselves! I found this book,
Gave a lira for it, eightpence English just,
(Mark the predestination!) when a Hand,
Always above my shoulder, pushed me once,
One day still fierce 'mid many a day struck calm,
Across a Square in Florence, crammed with booths,
Buzzing and blaze, noontide and market-time,
Toward Baccio's marble,—ay, the basement-ledge
O' the pedestal where sits and menaces
John of the Black Bands with the upright spear,
'Twixt palace and church,—Riccardi where they lived,
His race, and San Lorenzo where they lie.

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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V. Count Guido Franceschini

Thanks, Sir, but, should it please the reverend Court,
I feel I can stand somehow, half sit down
Without help, make shift to even speak, you see,
Fortified by the sip of … why, 't is wine,
Velletri,—and not vinegar and gall,
So changed and good the times grow! Thanks, kind Sir!
Oh, but one sip's enough! I want my head
To save my neck, there's work awaits me still.
How cautious and considerate … aie, aie, aie,
Nor your fault, sweet Sir! Come, you take to heart
An ordinary matter. Law is law.
Noblemen were exempt, the vulgar thought,
From racking; but, since law thinks otherwise,
I have been put to the rack: all's over now,
And neither wrist—what men style, out of joint:
If any harm be, 't is the shoulder-blade,
The left one, that seems wrong i' the socket,—Sirs,
Much could not happen, I was quick to faint,
Being past my prime of life, and out of health.
In short, I thank you,—yes, and mean the word.
Needs must the Court be slow to understand
How this quite novel form of taking pain,
This getting tortured merely in the flesh,
Amounts to almost an agreeable change
In my case, me fastidious, plied too much
With opposite treatment, used (forgive the joke)
To the rasp-tooth toying with this brain of mine,
And, in and out my heart, the play o' the probe.
Four years have I been operated on
I' the soul, do you see—its tense or tremulous part—
My self-respect, my care for a good name,
Pride in an old one, love of kindred—just
A mother, brothers, sisters, and the like,
That looked up to my face when days were dim,
And fancied they found light there—no one spot,
Foppishly sensitive, but has paid its pang.
That, and not this you now oblige me with,
That was the Vigil-torment, if you please!
The poor old noble House that drew the rags
O' the Franceschini's once superb array
Close round her, hoped to slink unchallenged by,—
Pluck off these! Turn the drapery inside out
And teach the tittering town how scarlet wears!
Show men the lucklessness, the improvidence
Of the easy-natured Count before this Count,
The father I have some slight feeling for,
Who let the world slide, nor foresaw that friends
Then proud to cap and kiss their patron's shoe,
Would, when the purse he left held spider-webs,
Properly push his child to wall one day!

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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How Can You Drive With A Stuck Clutch?

Why do you do what you do with a stuck clutch?
Or are you proving you can drive and do it without limits.
Why you do what you do with a stuck clutch?
Or is this your way of showing me,
With a mind you can overcome...
To get what's done.

Why do you do what you do with a stuck clutch?
Or are you proving you can drive and do it without limits.
Why you do what you do with a stuck clutch?
Or is this your way of showing me,
With a mind you can overcome...
To get what's done.

How can you drive with a stuck clutch?
I've never seen it done.
How can you drive with a stuck clutch?
You're the only one.
How can you drive with a stuck clutch?
Is this your way of showing me,
With a mind you can overcome...
To get what's done.

How can you drive with a stuck clutch?
I've never seen it done.
How can you drive with a stuck clutch?
You're the only one.
How can you drive with a stuck clutch?
Is this your way of showing me,
With a mind you can overcome...
To get what's done.

Why do you do what you do with a stuck clutch?
Or are you proving you can drive and do it without limits.
Why you do what you do with a stuck clutch?
Is this your way of showing me,
With a mind you can overcome...
To get what's done.

How can you drive with a stuck clutch?
Is this your way of showing me,
With a mind you can overcome...
To get what's done.

How can you drive with a stuck clutch?
You're the only one.
How can you drive with a stuck clutch?
Is this your way of showing me,
With a mind you can overcome...
To get what's done.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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