Marbet Daniel
Down from the womb descends a boy
And avidly they coo nursing the mother
Nape handling it happily
Inviting the infant to the inferior earth.
Elated is the mother, underging medication
Lark sings lovely songs for the pretty boy.
Manhood he has finaly attained
And artistry in poetry he potrays
Rhetoric writting he records
Brilliantly bringing change
Elegantly enlightning equality eloquently,
Through him true revolution is gonna be realistic.
poem by Marbet Daniel
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Related quotes
The Spring Oracle
OH prophetic bird so bright,
Blossom-songster, cuckoo bight!
In the fairest time of year,
Dearest bird, oh! deign to hear
What a youthful pair would pray,
Do thou call, if hope they may:
Thy cuck-oo, thy cuck-oo.
Ever more cuck-oo, cuck-oo!
Hearest thou? A loving pair
Fain would to the altar fare;
Yes! a pair in happy youth,
Full of virtue, full of truth.
Is the hour not fix'd by fate?
Say, how long must they still wait?
Hark! cuck-oo! hark! cuck-oo!
Silent yet! for shame, cuck-oo!
'Tis not our fault, certainly!
Only two years patient be!
But if we ourselves please here,
Will pa-pa-papas appear?
Know that thou'lt more kindness do us,
More thou'lt prophesy unto us.
One! cuck-oo! Two! cuck-oo!
Ever, ever, cuck-oo, cuck-oo, coo!
If we've calculated clearly,
We have half a dozen nearly.
If good promises we'll give,
Wilt thou say how long we'II live?
Truly, we'll confess to thee,
We'd prolong it willingly.
Coo cuck-oo, coo cuck-oo,
Coo, coo, coo, coo, coo, coo, coo, coo, coo!
Life is one continued feast--
(If we keep no score, at least).
If now we together dwell,
Will true love remain as well?
For if that should e'er decay,
Happiness would pass away.
Coo cuck-oo, coo cuck-oo,
Coo, coo, coo, coo, coo, coo, coo, coo, coo!
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Coo Coo Ca Choo
Coo coo ca choo baby you that's what you are
You are a hollywood star you're the high priestess by far
And you know this tune's for you we call it coo coo ca choo
And it's a very brief description of the things we could do to you
You were looking at me I was looking at you
Coo coo ca choo coo coo ca choo
You were looking at me I was looking at you
Coo coo ca choo now what ya gonna do
Oil me up quick miss daisy before I'm lubing up your tailpipe
Or the bedposts will be a knocking and a knocking 'til the break of light
Raised and dazed in a million and one ways
Like a Morton coffee roll I want you hot and glazed
So you're the real thing baby you're Parkay you're not butter
Gonna have to get you home and lube you up with fluff-n-nutter
Scope it scope it baby looking so fit
Playing games and laying dames you know I know you know it
Now you're quick to get the condom you know the Jimmy's gonna fit you snug
Lean you against the fire place and ride you on the bear skin rug
Chow down my Ding Dong come and sing along
Slip a grip around my tip and then you'll be my Klingon
Yeah in my sweat pants you're gonna see my erection
Ooh oh pick a de pop pop perfection
Umpla dumpla dippedee do
Cause I'd never leave the house if mommy looked like you
You were looking at me I was looking at you
Coo coo ca choo coo coo ca choo
You were looking at me I was looking at you
Coo coo ca choo now what ya gonna do
Butter up butter cup did ya think it'd really last long
My attention span hutches when you wake up know that I'll be gone
Cocoa butter beach blonde wearing that thin thong
You know I got a thing for you it's only an inch long
Now I'm picking up your signals like a TV station
I'm looking for the channel to have immoral applications
Looking so fine Cosmo behind
Fermentation of time like Reunite wine
Well I'm bubbling up and steaming like an active volcano
I think I clogged up all your pipes better get yourself some Draino
I get annoyed cause I can't avoid
Baby sounding like a mongoloid
I gots the skills to keep ya busy all night
If you do not bite I hope you blow like dynamite
Happy thanksgiving would you like a little white meat?
I'll stuff my Butterballs and you eat
You were looking at me I was looking at you
[...] Read more
song performed by Bloodhound Gang
Added by Lucian Velea
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I Am The Walrus
I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together
See how we run like pigs from a gun, see how we fly, Im cryin
Sitting on a cornflake, Im waiting for the van to come
Corporation t-shirts, stupid bloody tuesday, man youve been a naughty boy
You let your face grow long
I am the egg man
We are the egg men
I am the walrus
Coo coo ca choo
Mister city, policemen city, pretty little policemen in a row
See how they fly like lucy in the sky, see how we run, Im cryin
Im cry, Im cryin, Im cry
Yellow mound of custard, dripping from a dead dogs eye
Grab a locker fish-wife, pornographic priestess, man youve been a
Naughty girl you let your knickers down
I am the egg man
We are the egg men
I am the walrus
Coo coo ca choo, coo coo coo ca choo
Sitting in an english garden waiting for the sun
If the sun dont come you get your tan from standing in the english rain
I am the egg man
We are the egg men
And I am the walrus
Coo coo ca choo, ca coo coo ca choo
Experts sexperts, choking smokers, dont you think the joker laughs at you?
See how they spy like pigs in the sky, see how they snide, Im cryin
Semelena pilchards, climbing up the eiffel tower
Elementary penguins singing hare krishna, man you should have seen him
Kicking edgar allan poe
I am the egg man
We are the egg men
I am the walrus
Coo coo ca choo, ca coo coo ca choo
Coo coo ca choo, ca coo coo ca choo coo coo
A tu-tu-tu baw, a tu-tu-tu baw, a tu-tu-tu baw, a tu-tu-tu baw, a tu-tu-tu baw
song performed by Oasis
Added by Lucian Velea
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Adiemus
Ariadiamus late ariadiamus da
ari a natus late adua
A-ra-va-re tu-e va-te
a-ra-va-re tu-e va-te
a-ra-va-re tu-e va-te la-te-a
Ariadiamus late ariadiamus da
ari a natus late adua
A-ra-va-re tu-e va-te
a-ra-va-re tu-e va-te
a-ra-va-re tu-e va-te la-te-a
A-na-ma-na coo-le ra-we
a-na-ma-na coo-le ra
a-na-ma-na coo-le ra-we a-ka-la...
a-na-ma-na coo-le ra-we a-ka-la........
ah-ya-doo-ah-eh
a-na-ma-na coo-le ra-we a-ka-la.....
a-ya-doo-ah-eh...
a-ya doo a-ye
a-ya doo a-ye
****
A-na-ma-na coo-le ra-we
a-na-ma-na coo-le ra
a-na-ma-na coo-le ra-we a-ka-la...
a-na-ma-na coo-le ra-we a-ka-la........
ah-ya-doo-ah-eh
a-na-ma-na coo-le ra-we a-ka-la.....
a-ya-doo-ah-eh...
a-ya doo a-ye
a-ya doo a-ye
---
a-ri-a-di-a-mus la-te
a-ri-a-di-a-mus da
a-i-a na-tus la-te a-du-a.
A-ra-va-re tu-e va-te
a-ra-va-re tu-e va-te
a-ra-va-re tu-e va-te la-te-a.
A-na-ma-na coo-le ra-we
a-na-ma-na coo-le ra
a-na-ma-na coo-le ra-we a-ka-la...
a-na-ma-na coo-le ra-we a-ka-la........
ah-ya-doo-ah-eh
a-na-ma-na coo-le ra-we a-ka-la.....
a-ya-doo-ah-eh...
a-ya doo a-ye
a-ya doo a-ye
ya-ka-ma ya-ma-ya-ka-ya me-ma
a-ya-coo-ah-eh mena
ya-ka-ma ya-ma-ya-ka-ya me-ma
a-ya-coo-ah-eh mena
ya----ka--ma me--ah
[...] Read more
song performed by Enya
Added by Lucian Velea
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Maybe Not Today But When That Medication Fades
I use to feel so bad about it.
I use to get so mad and doubt it.
When conversations turned to age.
And who had looks they thought would stay.
I use to feel so bad about it.
I use to feel so mad and doubt it!
When conversations turned to age.
And who had looks they thought would stay!
Right now,
I'm a little proactive than the rest.
Right now,
When I walk outside I'm there to exercise...
With a steadied pacing of determined steps.
And right now chronologically,
Nobody's getting younger.
And even those stunning....
Will see a Sunset,
On their youthfulness.
And an aging seems to creep up on the 'stunning ones'.
Maybe not today but when that medication fades.
They wish to run through life as if it's nothing BUT fun.
Maybe another day they will wish they didn't...
When that medication fades.
Putting off tomorrow what today should be done!
Maybe not today but when that medication fades.
And they will someday gratefully pray.
Maybe not today but when that medication fades.
I use to feel so bad about it.
I use to get so mad and doubt it.
When conversations turned to age.
And who had looks they thought would stay.
And an aging seems to creep up on the 'stunning ones'.
Maybe not today but when that medication fades.
They wish to run through life as if it's nothing BUT fun.
To leave everything around them undone!
And they will someday gratefully pray.
Maybe not today but when that medication fades.
And they will someday rest and not have hourly played!
Maybe not today but when that medication fades.
And they will learn to disobey doesn't really pay.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Poetry...Poetry...
Poetry...Poetry...
Poetry is in the beginning of new life,
Poetry is in the tears of a child,
Poetry is in the warmth of mother's kiss,
Poetry is in the child's bliss,
Poetry is in the hug of a father,
Poetry is in the love of a dear,
Poetry is in the happiness of affection,
Poetry is in the pain of separation,
Poetry is in someone's loss,
Poetry is in missing someone very close.
Poetry...Poetry...
Poetry is in the first rain,
Poetry is in the cultivation of first grain,
Poetry is in the first light of dawn,
Poetry is in the drops of dew o the grass of lawn,
Poetry is in the blowing of cool wind,
Poetry is in the beauty of green,
Poetry is in the twinkling star,
Poetry is in the aroma of a flower,
Poetry is in thunder and lightning,
Poetry is in the heat scorching.
Poetry...Poetry...
Poetry is something more sweeter than sweet,
Poetry is something more closer to heart beat,
Poetry is something more than the most beautiful creation,
Poetry is something more than the depth of an ocean,
Poetry is something more higher than the blue,
Poetry is something more true,
Poetry is something more enjoyable than wine,
Poetry is something more shiner than sunshine,
Poetry is something more pure than air,
Poetry is something which is present everywhere.
Poetry...Poetry...
Poet ry is not just rhyme,
Poetry is but the voice Divine,
Poetry is not just Poetry,
Poetry frames History,
After so many lines,
Poetry still remains undefined.
Poetry...Poetry...
poem by Akash Agrawal
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An act of poetry
Ruin is what we need –
Despair is what we feed
Upon in poetry
A shock resets the nerves –
Helps remould the curves
Of written art
Catharsis helps portray –
Acting out a play
On expurgation
Tears or hidden fears
Release the bottled years
To ink a page:
The pen be our salvation.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
[...] Read more
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Poetry Sings
When poetry is anger
It sings to me furiously
Like thunder clashing into the Earth
With vigorous authority
When poetry is comfort
It sings to me gently
Like a mother's touch
Soothing her child from an afflicting pain
When poetry is bitterness
It sings to me harshly
Like back stabbers leaving another
In the cold, because they can't handle the situation
When poetry is driven
It sings to me energetically
Like an underdog, whom start to finish
Strives itself to victory
When poetry is hate
It sings to me vengefully
Coming towards you like a nuclear missle
Intended to dispose of your existence
When poetry is love
It sings to me tenderly
As if an angel are tranqualizing my ears
With their divine voices
When poetry is vulgar
It sings to me villianously
As if I'm it's prize
For the obscene thoughts it deviously conjers up
When poetry is sultry
It sings to me passionately
Like an enticing hot and moist body
Engulfed with lust, provocatively captivating me
When poetry is fear
It sings to me timidly
Like an individual with anxiety towards a phobia
Prefering gone from their conscious
When poetry is courage
It sings to me bravely
Like a patriot who defends its rights
Against the tyrants of his/her nation
[...] Read more
poem by R.K. Cowles
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Margaret's Bridal Eve
I
The old grey mother she thrummed on her knee:
There is a rose that's ready;
And which of the handsome young men shall it be?
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
My daughter, come hither, come hither to me:
There is a rose that's ready;
Come, point me your finger on him that you see:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
O mother, my mother, it never can be:
There is a rose that's ready;
For I shall bring shame on the man marries me:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
Now let your tongue be deep as the sea:
There is a rose that's ready;
And the man'll jump for you, right briskly will he:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
Tall Margaret wept bitterly:
There is a rose that's ready;
And as her parent bade did she:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
O the handsome young man dropped down on his knee:
There is a rose that's ready;
Pale Margaret gave him her hand, woe's me!
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
II
O mother, my mother, this thing I must say:
There is a rose in the garden;
Ere he lies on the breast where that other lay:
And the bird sings over the roses.
Now, folly, my daughter, for men are men:
There is a rose in the garden;
You marry them blindfold, I tell you again:
And the bird sings over the roses.
O mother, but when he kisses me!
There is a rose in the garden;
My child, 'tis which shall sweetest be!
And the bird sings over the roses.
O mother, but when I awake in the morn!
[...] Read more
poem by George Meredith
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It's a Cool Coo
I can't sleep at night,
'Cause I like to hear your voice...
Moan.
I hope you're there home alone.
And I'm tempted just to telephone.
I feel alone.
Just to hear you,
Moan.
And maybe get something going on!
Even if it's on the telephone.
The first time we did it,
It was good to me.
I didn't want to act,
Like you had me like that.
Or wanted you so quickly,
Back in my sack.
But you've got it going on.
And when you moan...
I've got to groan.
I wish you could be here...
To coo.
Like you coo when we move.
I love your cooin' when we do it...
It's a cool coo.
The first time we did it,
It was good to me.
I didn't want to act,
Like you had me like that.
Or wanted you so quickly,
Back in my sack.
But you've got it going on.
And when you moan...
I've got to groan.
I can't sleep at night,
'Cause I like to hear your voice...
Moan.
I hope you're there home alone.
And I'm tempted just to telephone.
I feel all alone.
I wish you could be here...
To coo.
Like you coo when we move...
And you coo coo.
Coo coo.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Windigo
Go easy wit' de paddle, an' steady wit' de
oar
Geev rudder to de bes' man you got among
de crew,
Let ev'ry wan be quiet, don't let dem sing no
more
W'en you see de islan' risin' out of Grande
Lac Manitou
Above us on de sky dere, de summer cloud
may float
Aroun' us on de water de ripple never show,
But somet'ing down below us can rock de
stronges' boat,
W'en we 're comin' near de islan' of de
spirit Windigo!
De carcajou may breed dere, an' otter sweem
de poole
De moosh-rat mak' de mud house, an' beaver
buil' hees dam
An' beeges' Injun hunter on all de Tête de
Boule
Will never set hees trap dere from spring
to summer tam.
But he 'll bring de fines' presen' from upper
St. Maurice
De loup marin an' black-fox from off de
Hodson Bay
An' hide dem on de islan' an' smoke de pipe
of peace
So Windigo will help heem w'en he travel
far away.
We shaintee on dat islan' on de winter seexty-
nine
If you look you see de clearin' aroun' de
Coo Coo Cache,
An' pleasan' place enough too among de spruce
an' pine
If foreman on de shaintee is n't Cyprien
Palache.
Beeg feller, alway watchin' on hees leetle
weasel eye,
De gang dey can't do not'ing but he see dem
purty quick
Wit' hees 'Hi dere, w'at you doin' ?' ev'ry
tam he 's passin' by
An' de bad word he was usin' , wall! it offen
[...] Read more
poem by William Henry Drummond
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Canto the Fourth
I.
I stood in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs;
A palace and a prison on each hand:
I saw from out the wave her structures rise
As from the stroke of the enchanter’s wand:
A thousand years their cloudy wings expand
Around me, and a dying glory smiles
O’er the far times when many a subject land
Looked to the wingèd Lion’s marble piles,
Where Venice sate in state, throned on her hundred isles!
II.
She looks a sea Cybele, fresh from ocean,
Rising with her tiara of proud towers
At airy distance, with majestic motion,
A ruler of the waters and their powers:
And such she was; her daughters had their dowers
From spoils of nations, and the exhaustless East
Poured in her lap all gems in sparkling showers.
In purple was she robed, and of her feast
Monarchs partook, and deemed their dignity increased.
III.
In Venice, Tasso’s echoes are no more,
And silent rows the songless gondolier;
Her palaces are crumbling to the shore,
And music meets not always now the ear:
Those days are gone - but beauty still is here.
States fall, arts fade - but Nature doth not die,
Nor yet forget how Venice once was dear,
The pleasant place of all festivity,
The revel of the earth, the masque of Italy!
IV.
But unto us she hath a spell beyond
Her name in story, and her long array
Of mighty shadows, whose dim forms despond
Above the dogeless city’s vanished sway;
Ours is a trophy which will not decay
With the Rialto; Shylock and the Moor,
And Pierre, cannot be swept or worn away -
The keystones of the arch! though all were o’er,
For us repeopled were the solitary shore.
V.
[...] Read more
poem by Byron from Childe Harold's Pilgrimage (1818)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Hide and Seek
All the trees are sleeping, all the winds are still,
All the flocks of fleecy clouds have wandered past the hill;
Through the noonday silence, down the woods of June,
Hark, a little hunter's voice comes running with a tune.
"Hide and seek!
"When I speak,
"You must answer me:
"Call again,
"Merry men,
"Coo-ee, coo-ee, coo-ee!"
Now I hear his footsteps, rustling through the grass:
Hidden in my leafy nook, shall I let him pass?
Just a low, soft whistle,--quick the hunter turns,
Leaps upon me laughing, rolls me in the ferns.
"Hold him fast,
"Caught at last!
"Now you're it, you see.
"Hide your eye,
"Till I cry,
"Coo-ee, coo-ee, coo-ee!"
II
Long ago he left me, long and long ago:
Now I wander through the world and seek him high and low;
Hidden safe and happy, in some pleasant place,--
Ah, if I could hear his voice, I soon should find his face.
Far away,
Many a day,
Where can Barney be?
Answer, dear,
Don't you hear?
Coo-ee, coo-ee, coo-ee!
Birds that in the spring-time thrilled his heart with joy,
Flowers he loved to pick for me, mind me of my boy.
Surely he is waiting till my steps come nigh;
Love may hide itself awhile, but love can never die.
Heart, be glad,
The little lad
Will call some day to thee:
"Father dear,
"Heaven is here,
"Coo-ee, coo-ee, coo-ee!"
poem by Henry Van Dyke
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Adam: A Sacred Drama. Act 2.
SCENE I. -- CHORUS OF ANGELS Singing.
Now let us garlands weave
Of all the fairest flowers,
Now at this early dawn,
For new-made man, and his companion dear;
Let all with festive joy,
And with melodious song,
Of the great Architect
Applaud this noblest work,
And speak the joyous sound,
Man is the wonder both of Earth and Heaven.
FIRST Angel.
Your warbling now suspend,
You pure angelic progeny of God,
Behold the labour emulous of Heaven!
Behold the woody scene,
Decked with a thousand flowers of grace divine;
Here man resides, here ought he to enjoy
In his fair mate eternity of bliss.
SECOND Angel.
How exquisitely sweet
This rich display of flowers,
This airy wild of fragrance,
So lovely to the eye,
And to the sense so sweet.
THIRD Angel.
O the sublime Creator,
How marvellous his works, and more his power!
Such is the sacred flame
Of his celestial love,
Not able to confine it in himself,
He breathed, as fruitful sparks
From his creative breast,
The Angels, Heaven, Man, Woman, and the World.
FOURTH Angel.
Yes, mighty Lord! yes, hallowed love divine!
Who, ever in thyself completely blest,
Unconscious of a want,
Who from thyself alone, and at thy will,
Bright with beignant flames,
Without the aid of matter or of form,
[...] Read more
poem by William Cowper
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Lets Pretend Were Married
(prince)
Producers: carter
Album: the collected recordings (94)
B-side of the us/oz show some respect single
B-side of the uk/ger I cant stand the rain single
Excuse me but I need a love like yours
To help me forget the guy that just walked out that door
Funny but it seems that youre alone like me
If you are then lets go see, see, see
Little darlin if youre free for a couple of hours
And aint busy for the next seven years
Lets pretend were married and go all night
There aint nothin wrong if it feels all right
I wont stop until the morning light
Lets pretend were married and go all night, tonight
Ooh-we-coo-coo-sha-sha yeah
Everybody sing together
Ooh-we-coo-coo-sha-sha yeah
Excuse me but I need your tender skin
Dont you want to be my fantasy?
I dont care if you dont ever come
And if you go (so what? )
Cmon baby, lets ball
And if youre free for a couple of hours
And aint busy for the next seven years
Lets pretend were married and go all night
There aint nothin wrong if it feels all right
I wont stop until the morning light
Lets pretend were married and go all night, tonight
Ooh-we-coo-coo-sha-sha yeah
Everybody sing together
Ooh-we-coo-coo-sha-sha yeah
Ooh-we-coo-coo-sha-sha yeah
Everybody singing
Ooh-we-coo-coo-sha-sha
What you heard about me is true
I change the rules and do what I wanna do
Im in love with life, its the only way
cause you and I know we gotta go some day
If you think Im wild, youre probably right
cause Im gonna rockn roll night everyday and every night
song performed by Tina Turner
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Four Seasons : Spring
Come, gentle Spring! ethereal Mildness! come,
And from the bosom of yon dropping cloud,
While music wakes around, veil'd in a shower
Of shadowing roses, on our plains descend.
O Hertford, fitted or to shine in courts
With unaffected grace, or walk the plain
With innocence and meditation join'd
In soft assemblage, listen to my song,
Which thy own Season paints; when Nature all
Is blooming and benevolent, like thee.
And see where surly Winter passes off,
Far to the north, and calls his ruffian blasts:
His blasts obey, and quit the howling hill,
The shatter'd forest, and the ravaged vale;
While softer gales succeed, at whose kind touch,
Dissolving snows in livid torrents lost,
The mountains lift their green heads to the sky.
As yet the trembling year is unconfirm'd,
And Winter oft at eve resumes the breeze,
Chills the pale morn, and bids his driving sleets
Deform the day delightless: so that scarce
The bittern knows his time, with bill ingulf'd,
To shake the sounding marsh; or from the shore
The plovers when to scatter o'er the heath,
And sing their wild notes to the listening waste
At last from Aries rolls the bounteous sun,
And the bright Bull receives him. Then no more
The expansive atmosphere is cramp'd with cold
But, full of life and vivifying soul,
Lifts the light clouds sublime, and spreads then thin,
Fleecy, and white, o'er all-surrounding heaven.
Forth fly the tepid airs: and unconfined,
Unbinding earth, the moving softness strays.
Joyous, the impatient husbandman perceives
Relenting Nature, and his lusty steers
Drives from their stalls, to where the well used plough
Lies in the furrow, loosen'd from the frost.
There, unrefusing, to the harness'd yoke
They lend their shoulder, and begin their toil,
Cheer'd by the simple song and soaring lark.
Meanwhile incumbent o'er the shining share
The master leans, removes the obstructing clay,
Winds the whole work, and sidelong lays the glebe
While through the neighbouring fields the sowe stalks,
With measured step, and liberal throws the grain
Into the faithful bosom of the ground;
The harrow follows harsh, and shuts the scene.
Be gracious, Heaven! for now laborious Man
Has done his part. Ye fostering breezes, blow!
Ye softening dews, ye tender showers, descend!
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poem by James Thomson
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David
My thought, on views of admiration hung,
Intently ravish'd and depriv'd of tongue,
Now darts a while on earth, a while in air,
Here mov'd with praise and mov'd with glory there;
The joys entrancing and the mute surprize
Half fix the blood, and dim the moist'ning eyes;
Pleasure and praise on one another break,
And Exclamation longs at heart to speak;
When thus my Genius, on the work design'd
Awaiting closely, guides the wand'ring mind.
If while thy thanks wou'd in thy lays be wrought,
A bright astonishment involve the thought,
If yet thy temper wou'd attempt to sing,
Another's quill shall imp thy feebler wing;
Behold the name of royal David near,
Behold his musick and his measures here,
Whose harp Devotion in a rapture strung,
And left no state of pious souls unsung.
Him to the wond'ring world but newly shewn,
Celestial poetry pronounc'd her own;
A thousand hopes, on clouds adorn'd with rays,
Bent down their little beauteous forms to gaze;
Fair-blooming Innocence with tender years,
And native Sweetness for the ravish'd ears,
Prepar'd to smile within his early song,
And brought their rivers, groves, and plains along;
Majestick Honour at the palace bred,
Enrob'd in white, embroider'd o'er with red,
Reach'd forth the scepter of her royal state,
His forehead touch'd, and bid his lays be great;
Undaunted Courage deck'd with manly charms,
With waving-azure plumes, and gilded arms,
Displaid the glories, and the toils of fight,
Demanded fame, and call'd him forth to write.
To perfect these the sacred spirit came,
By mild infusion of celestial flame,
And mov'd with dove-like candour in his breast,
And breath'd his graces over all the rest.
Ah! where the daring flights of men aspire
To match his numbers with an equal fire;
In vain they strive to make proud Babel rise,
And with an earth-born labour touch the skies.
While I the glitt'ring page resolve to view,
That will the subject of my lines renew;
The Laurel wreath, my fames imagin'd shade,
Around my beating temples fears to fade;
My fainting fancy trembles on the brink,
And David's God must help or else I sink.
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poem by Thomas Parnell
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Book the Second
Thou hearest the Nightingale begin the Song of Spring.
The Lark sitting upon his earthly bed, just as the morn
Apears, listens silent; then springing from the waving Corn-field loud
He leads the Choir of Day! trill, thrill, thrill, trill,
Mounting upon the wings of light into the great Expanse,
Reechoing against the lovely blue & shining heavenly Shell.
His little throat labours with inspiration; every feather
On throat & breast & wings vibrates with the effluence Divine.
All Nature listens silent to him, & the awful Sun
Stands still upon the Mountain looking on this little Bird
With eyes of soft humility & wonder, love & awe.
Then loud from their green covert all the Birds begin their Song:
The Thrush, the Linnet & the Goldfinch, Robin & the Wren
Awake the Sun from his sweet reverie upon the Mountain;
The Nightingale again assays his song, & thro’ the day
And thro’ the night warbles luxuriant, every Bird of Song
Attending his loud harmony with admiration & love.
This is a Vision of the lamentation of Beulah over Ololon.
Thou perceivest the Flowers put forth their precious Odours,
And none can tell how form so small a center comes such sweets,
Forgetting that within that Center Eternity expends
Its ever during doors that Og & Anak fiercely guard.
First, e’er the morning breaks, joy opens in the flowery bosoms,
Joy even to tears, which the
Sun rising dries; first the Wild Thyme
And Meadow-sweet, downy & soft, waving among the reeds,
Light springing on the air, lead the sweet Dance: they wake
The Honeysuckle sleeping on the Oak; the flaunting beauty
Revels along upon the wind; the White-thorn, lovely May,
Opens her many lovely eyes; listening the Rose still sleeps –
None dare to wake her; soon she bursts her crimson curtain’d bed
And comes forth in the majesty of beauty; every Flower,
The Pink, the Jessamine, the Wall-flower, the Carnation,
The Jonquil, the mild Lilly opes her heavens; every Tree
And Flower & Herb soon fill the air with an innumberable Dance,
Yet all in order sweet & lovely. Men are sick with Love.
Such is a Vision of the Lamentation of Beulah over Ololon.
And Milton oft sat upon the Couch of Death, & oft conversed
In vision & dream beatific with the Seven Angels of the Presence:
‘I have turned my back upon these Heavens builded on cruelty.
My Spectre still wandering thro’ them follows my Emanation;
He hunts her footsteps thro’ the snow & the wintry hail & rain.
The idiot Reasoner laughs at the Man of Imagination,
And from laughter proceeds o murder by undervaluing calumny.’
Then Hillel, who is Lucifer, replied over the Couch of Death,
And thus the Seven angels instructed him, & thus they converse:
‘We are not Individuals but States, Combinations of Individuals.
We were Angels of the Divine Presence, & were Druids in Annandale,
Compell’d to combine into Form by Satan, the Spectre of Albion,
[...] Read more
poem by William Blake from Milton (1810)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Just listening to my beats
She hadn’t given me birth from her womb; but could
still irrefutably gauge the profound sadness
enshrouding my countenance; by just ethereally
glimpsing at my shielding eyelashes,
She hadn’t given me birth from her womb; but could
still irrefutably prognosticate the hunger in my
stomach; by just sighting me restlessly gnawing at my
bohemian nails,
She hadn’t given me birth from her womb; but could
still irrefutably sense the maniacal desperation in my
trembling visage; by just the infinitesimally changed
tone; in the nimble cadence of my voice,
She hadn’t given me birth from her womb; but could
still irrefutably comprehend the wave of bizarre
mortification enveloping my soul; by just the
capricious tinge of poignant scarlet; on my
impoverished cheeks,
She hadn’t given me birth from her womb; but could
still irrefutably narrate the experiences of my day;
by just feeling the transiently cringed lines; on my
diminutively frazzled forehead,
She hadn’t given me birth from her womb; but could
still irrefutably guess the thunderbolts of tumultuous
anger encapsulating my blood; by just witnessing that
inconspicuous iota of frantic vacillation in my
dwindling stride,
She hadn’t given me birth from her womb; but could
still irrefutably feel the insatiably nostalgic child
in me; by just gently caressing my innocuously
vivacious lips,
She hadn’t given me birth from her womb; but could
still irrefutably soliloquize the first day of my
birth; by just kissing my rampantly fluttering and
daintily gorgeous eyelashes,
She hadn’t given me birth from her womb; but could
still irrefutably understand the diabolically
obsessive agony in my life; by just sighting the
augmented redness in the interiors of my palm; and
withering body skin,
She hadn’t give me birth from her womb; but could
still irrefutably analyze the state of intriguingly
inexplicable mind; by just staring for mock seconds;
[...] Read more
poem by Nikhil Parekh
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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
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poem by Praveen Kumar
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