Citatepedia^®.com

Apple Incorporation Or Microcomputer Revolution

To Steve Jobs, Steve Wozniak, Ronald Wayne.

Velours banana
Rainbow apple fridge pear
Highway strawberry
Smog apricot sunlight peach
Snowfall melon leaf cherry

poem by Nicolas Grenier
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Cherry, Cherry Coupe

Go cherry, cherry coupe now
The wildest short around is my cherry, cherry coupe
Its the sharpest thing in town and the envy of my group
Its one of its kind and it really looks good
Chopped nose and deck with louvers on the hood
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
(my cherry coupe beats em up coming off the line)
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
(and she really gets sparks when she starts to whine)
Chrome reversed rims with whitewall slicks
And it turns a quarter mile in one oh six
Door handles are off but you know Ill never miss em
They open when I want with the cellunoid system
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
(my cherry coupe beats em up coming off the line)
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
(and she really gets sparks when she starts to whine)
My coupes tuck and roll underneath the hood
And the rugs, seats, and panels now are looking good
When I go looking for something to do
Shes got enough room now to barely seat two
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
(my cherry coupe beats em up coming off the line)
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
(and she really gets sparks when she starts to whine)
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
(my cherry coupe beats em up coming off the line)
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
(and she really gets sparks when she starts to whine)

song performed by Beach Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Lord of the Isles: Canto III.

I.
Hast thou not mark'd, when o'er thy startled head
Sudden and deep the thunder-peal has roll'd,
How when its echoes fell, a silence dead
Sunk on the wood, the meadow, and the wold?
The rye-glass shakes not on the sod-built fold,
The rustling aspen's leaves are mute and still,
The wall-flower waves not on the ruin'd hold,
Till, murmuring distant first, then near and shrill,
The savage whirlwind wakes, and sweeps the groaning hill.

II.
Artornish! such a silence sunk
Upon thy halls, when that grey Monk
His prophet-speech had spoke;
And his obedient brethren's sail
Was stretch'd to meet the southern gale
Before a whisper woke.
Then murmuring sounds of doubt and fear,
Close pour'd in many an anxious ear,
The solemn stillness broke;
And still they gazed with eager guess,
Where, in an oriel's deep recess,
The Island Prince seem'd bent to press
What Lorn, by his impatient cheer,
And gesture fierce, scarce deign'd to hear.

III.
Starting at length with frowning look,
His hand he clench'd, his head he shook,
And sternly flung apart;-
'And deem'st thou me so mean of mood,
As to forget the mortal feud,
And clasp the hand with blood inbrued
From my dear Kinsman's heart?
Is this thy rede? - a due return
For ancient league and friendship sworn!
But well our mountain proverb shows
The faith of Islesmen ebbs and flows.
Be it even so - believe, ere long,
He that now bears shall wreak the wrong.-
Call Edith - call the Maid of Lorn!
My sister, slaves! - for further scorn,
Be sure nor she nor I will stay.-
Away, De Argentine, away! -
We nor ally nor brother know,
In Bruce's friend, or England's foe.'

IV.
But who the Chieftain's rage can tell,

[...] Read more

poem by Sir Walter Scott
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Livin In The Fridge

Theres something weird in the fridge today
I dont know what it is
Food I cant recognize
My roommate wont throw a thing away
I guess its probably his
It looks like its alive...
And livin in the fridge... livin in the fridge
Livin in the fridge... livin in the fridge
Theres something dross in the fridge today
Its green and growin hair
Its been there since july
If you can name the object
In that baggie over there
Then mister, youre a better man than i
Its livin in the fridge
You cant stop (dysentary) the mold from growin (dysentary)
Livin in the fridge
Cant tell what (dysentary) it is at all (dysentary)
Livin in the fridge
You cant stop (dysentary) the mold from growin (dysentary)
Livin in the fridge
Tell me, do you think it should be carbon dated
Fumigated or creamated and buried at sea?
You try to save a little bit of youre home cookin
Couple weeks later, got a scary-lookin specimen
It always happens my friend
Again & again & again & again
Somethin stinks in the fridge today
And its been rottin there all week
It could be liver cake or wooly mammoth steak
Well, maybe I should another peek...
Livin in the fridge
You cant stop (dysentary) the mold from growin (dysentary)
Livin in the fridge
Cant tell what (dysentary) it is at all (dysentary)
Livin in the fridge
You cant stop (dysentary) the mold from growin (dysentary)
Livin in the fridge
Livin in the fridge
Dont know what it is, dont know what it is
Livin in the fridge
Dont know what it is, dont know what it is
Livin in the fridge
Dont know what it is at all
Livin in the fridge, yeah
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah

song performed by Weird Al Yankovic
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Lord of the Isles: Canto V.

I.
On fair Loch-Ranza stream'd the early day,
Thin wreaths of cottage-smoke are upward curl'd
From the lone hamlet, which her inland bay
And circling mountains sever from the world.
And there the fisherman his sail unfurl'd,
The goat-herd drove his kids to steep Ben-Ghoil,
Before the hut the dame her spindle twirl'd,
Courting the sunbeam as she plied her toil, -
For, wake where'er he may, Man wakes to care and coil.

But other duties call'd each convent maid,
Roused by the summons of the moss-grown bell;
Sung were the matins, and the mass was said,
And every sister sought her separate cell,
Such was the rule, her rosary to tell.
And Isabel has knelt in lonely prayer;
The sunbeam, through the narrow lattice, fell
Upon the snowy neck and long dark hair,
As stoop'd her gentle head in meek devotion there.

II.
She raised her eyes, that duty done,
When glanced upon the pavement-stone,
Gemm'd and enchased, a golden ring,
Bound to a scroll with silken string,
With few brief words inscribed to tell,
'This for the Lady Isabel.'
Within, the writing farther bore,-
''Twas with this ring his plight he swore,
With this his promise I restore;
To her who can the heart command,
Well may I yield the plighted hand.
And O! for better fortune born,
Grudge not a passing sigh to mourn
Her who was Edith once of Lorn!'
One single flash of glad surprise
Just glanced from Isabel's dark eyes,
But vanish'd in the blush of shame,
That, as its penance, instant came.
'O thought unworthy of my race!
Selfish, ungenerous, mean, and base,
A moment's throb of joy to own,
That rose upon her hopes o'erthrown!-
Thou pledge of vows too well believed,
Of man ingrate and maid deceived,
Think not thy lustre here shall gain
Another heart to hope in vain!
For thou shalt rest, thou tempting gaud,
Where worldly thoughts are overawed,

[...] Read more

poem by Sir Walter Scott
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Cherry, Cherry

Cherry, cherry
Rozanda was her real name
But cherry was her chosen one
Everybody said that shed soon be dead
But cherry replied at least I had some fun (oh yes)
Her eyes were like a pool of 24 karat diamonds
I was the last in a long line of foolish men who dived in
Chorus:
Cherry, cherry
I think about u every rising sun
Whoa cherry, cherry
Wherever u are, I hope ure havin fun (oh yes)
Tuesday was my big game
North vs. central in basketball
Underneath their long coats
Cherry and the girls wore camisoles
Every time north would run the hoop
Cherry would flash em and they would fall
But not as hard as I fell
When cherry gave me her number and told me 2 call (u should call me)
Using all the money her boyfriend wilbur gave her, shed buy
Anything I wanted, thats why my babys so fly
Chorus
(do do do do do)
Me and cherry got married
And tried our best 2 keep it on the down low, the down low
I was combing her hair
The day that wilbur called and cussed her on the phone
He beat her up real bad and figured I was gonna leave her
Instead I bought a 45 and set out 2 relieve her (take him out)
If he was taken out then he could never harm another
No sooner than I got there, I was met by cherrys mother cryin
Cherry, cherry
Every night I ask the lord why? oh why?
Cherry, cherry
Another victim of a suicide (why oh why? )
Why?
Cherry, cherry
I think about u every rising sun
Whoa cherry, cherry
Wherever u are, I hope ure havin fun
I hope ure having fun, baby
Cherry, cherry
Id give anything 2 kiss u
Cherry, cherry
I guess I just miss u
Cherry

song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Show Me (Cherry Baby)

Show me, show me
Show me how
Show me, show me
Show me how
Oh cherry
Oh cherry baby
Oh cherry
Oh cherry baby
Oh cherry
Oh cherry baby
Oh cherry
Oh cherry
I found you wanting
Like everyone
Always trying
Happy lying
cos Im no stranger
To the ways of the world
I felt like crying
I felt like dying
We took a coffee
You took it so strong
Shaded from the neon
I could still see your eyes
Oh cherry
Oh cherry baby
Oh cherry
Oh cherry baby
Oh cherry
Oh cherry baby
Oh cherry
Oh cherry baby
Found in the gutter
With a knife in her back
Letter said sorry
Please dont worry
She had a lover
With danger in his eyes
I tried to tell her
But she had the wildest heart
Show me, show me
Show me how
Show me, show me
Show me how
Oh cherry
Oh cherry baby
Oh cherry
Oh cherry baby
Oh cherry
Oh cherry baby

[...] Read more

song performed by INXS
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Show Me

Show me, show me
Show me how
Show me, show me
Show me how
Oh cherry
Oh cherry baby
Oh cherry
Oh cherry baby
Oh cherry
Oh cherry baby
Oh cherry
Oh cherry
I found you wanting
Like everyone
Always trying
Happy lying
'Cos I'm no stranger
To the ways of the world
I felt like crying
I felt like dying
We took a coffee
You took it so strong
Shaded from the neon
I could still see your eyes
Oh cherry
Oh cherry baby
Oh cherry
Oh cherry baby
Oh cherry
Oh cherry baby
Oh cherry
Oh cherry baby
Found in the gutter
With a knife in her back
Letter said sorry
Please don't worry
She had a lover
With danger in his eyes
I tried to tell her
But she had the wildest heart
Show me, show me
Show me how
Show me, show me
Show me how
Oh cherry
Oh cherry baby
Oh cherry
Oh cherry baby
Oh cherry
Oh cherry baby

[...] Read more

song performed by INXS
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Lord of the Isles: Canto IV.

I.
Stranger! if e'er thine ardent step hath traced
The northern realms of ancient Caledon,
Where the proud Queen of Wilderness hath placed,
By lake and cataract, her lonely throne;
Sublime but sad delight thy soul hath known,
Gazing on pathless glen and mountain high,
Listing where from the cliffs the torrents thrown
Mingle their echoes with the eagle's cry,
And with the sounding lake, and with the moaning sky.

Yes! 'twas sublime, but sad. - The loneliness
Loaded thy heart, the desert tired thine eye;
And strange and awful fears began to press
Thy bosom with a stern solemnity.
Then hast thou wish'd some woodman's cottage nigh,
Something that show'd of life, though low and mean;
Glad sight, its curling wreath of smoke to spy,
Glad sound, its cock's blithe carol would have been,
Or children whooping wild beneath the willows green.

Such are the scenes, where savage grandeur wakes
An awful thrill that softens into sighs;
Such feelings rouse them by dim Rannoch's lakes,
In dark Glencoe such gloomy raptures rise:
Or farther, where, beneath the northern skies,
Chides wild Loch-Eribol his caverns hoar-
But, be the minstrel judge, they yield the prize
Of desert dignity to that dread shore,
That sees grim Coolin rise, and hears Coriskin roar.

II.
Through such wild scenes the champion pass'd,
When bold halloo and bugle blast
Upon the breeze came loud and fast.
'There,' said the Bruce, 'rung Edward's horn!
What can have caused such brief return?
And see, brave Ronald,- see him dart
O'er stock and stone like hunted hart,
Precipitate, as is the use,
In war or sport, or Edward Bruce.
- He marks us, and his eager cry
Will tell his news ere he be nigh.'

III.
Loud Edward shouts, 'What make ye here,
Warring upon the mountain-deer,
When Scotland wants her King?
A bark from Lennox cross'd our track,
With her in speed I hurried back,

[...] Read more

poem by Sir Walter Scott
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Lord of the Isles: Canto I.

Autumn departs - but still his mantle's fold
Rests on the groves of noble Somerville,
Beneath a shroud of russet dropp'd with gold,
Tweed and his tributaries mingle still;
Hoarser the wind, and deeper sounds the rill,
Yet lingering notes of silvan music swell,
The deep-toned cushat, and the redbreast shrill:
And yet some tints of summer splendour tell
When the broad sun sinks down on Ettrick's western fell.

Autumn departs - from Gala's fields no more
Come rural sounds our kindred banks to cheer;
Blent with the stream, and gale that wafts it o'er,
No more the distant reaper's mirth we hear.
The last blithe shout hath died upon our ear,
And harvest-home hath hush'd the changing wain,
On the waste hill no forms of life appear,
Save where, sad laggard of the autumnal train,
Some age-struck wanderer gleans few ears of scatter'd grain.

Deem'st thou these sadden'd scenes have pleasure still,
Lovest thou through Autumn's fading realms to stray,
To see the heath-flower wither'd on the hill,
To listen to the wood's expiring lay,
To note the red leaf shivering on the spray,
To mark the last bright tints the mountain stain,
On the waste fields to trace the gleaner's way,
And moralise on mortal joy and pain? -
O! if such scenes thou lovest, scorn not the minstrel strain.

No! do not scorn, although its hoarser note
Scarce with the cushat's homely song can vie,
Though faint its beauties as the tints remote
That gleam through mist in autumn's evening sky,
And few as leaves that tremble, sear and dry,
When wild November hath his bugle wound;
Nor mock my toil - a lonely gleaner I,
Through fields time-wasted, on and inquest bound,
Where happier bards of yore have richer harvest found.

So shalt thou list, and haply not unmoved,
To a wild tale of Albyn's warrior day;
In distant lands, by the rough West reproved,
Still live some relics of the ancient lay.
For, when on Coolin's hills the lights decay,
With such the Seer of Skye the eve beguiles;
'Tis known amid the pathless wastes of Reay,
In Harries known, and in Iona's piles,
Where rest from mortal coil the Mighty of the Isles.

[...] Read more

poem by Sir Walter Scott
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The House Of Dust: Complete

I.

The sun goes down in a cold pale flare of light.
The trees grow dark: the shadows lean to the east:
And lights wink out through the windows, one by one.
A clamor of frosty sirens mourns at the night.
Pale slate-grey clouds whirl up from the sunken sun.

And the wandering one, the inquisitive dreamer of dreams,
The eternal asker of answers, stands in the street,
And lifts his palms for the first cold ghost of rain.
The purple lights leap down the hill before him.
The gorgeous night has begun again.

'I will ask them all, I will ask them all their dreams,
I will hold my light above them and seek their faces.
I will hear them whisper, invisible in their veins . . .'
The eternal asker of answers becomes as the darkness,
Or as a wind blown over a myriad forest,
Or as the numberless voices of long-drawn rains.

We hear him and take him among us, like a wind of music,
Like the ghost of a music we have somewhere heard;
We crowd through the streets in a dazzle of pallid lamplight,
We pour in a sinister wave, ascend a stair,
With laughter and cry, and word upon murmured word;
We flow, we descend, we turn . . . and the eternal dreamer
Moves among us like light, like evening air . . .

Good-night! Good-night! Good-night! We go our ways,
The rain runs over the pavement before our feet,
The cold rain falls, the rain sings.
We walk, we run, we ride. We turn our faces
To what the eternal evening brings.

Our hands are hot and raw with the stones we have laid,
We have built a tower of stone high into the sky,
We have built a city of towers.

Our hands are light, they are singing with emptiness.
Our souls are light; they have shaken a burden of hours . . .
What did we build it for? Was it all a dream? . . .
Ghostly above us in lamplight the towers gleam . . .
And after a while they will fall to dust and rain;
Or else we will tear them down with impatient hands;
And hew rock out of the earth, and build them again.

II.

[...] Read more

poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Forsaking All Others Part 1

'NOT that you'll like him,' Nell said,
'No mystery - no romance,
A fine, stern, eagle-like head,
But he simply reeks of finance, -­
Started from nothing - self-made -­
And rather likes you to know it,
And now collects porcelain and jade,
Or some Seventeenth Century poet.

'Married in simpler days,
A poor little wren of a being,
Who exists to pray and praise,
And spends her life agreeing,
Thin and dowdy and pale,
And getting paler and thinner­
Well, the point of this dreary tale
Is I've asked them both to dinner.

'I'd leave her out like a shot,
For I'm not so keen about her,
But, my dear, believe it or not,
He won't dine out without her.
She has that terrible hold
That aging wives exert to
Replace young charms grown old­
Poor health and impeccable virtue.

'Lightly I asked them to dine,
And now I perceive the dangers,
My friends-yours and mine­
Are so terribly rude to strangers.
But you, dear girl, I can trust
To come and be brilliant and tender;
Vamp the man, if you must,
But give an impression of splendor.'

II

LEE sat before her mirror... rouged her lips,
Set dripping diamond earrings in her ears,
Polished a little at her finger tips,
Thought that she did not look her thirty years;

Thought, 'Poor dear Nellie's ill-assorted feasts!
I want to be as helpful as I can
Among that group of men and gods and beasts...
Why does she think I shall not like this man?

She made him sound entrancing... strong and crude,
Successful, dominant...I, who for so long

[...] Read more

poem by Alice Duer Miller
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Tra La La Song

Tra-la-la, la-la-la-la
Tra-la-la, la-la-la-la
Tra-la-la, la-la-la-la
Tra-la-la, la-la-la-la
One banana, two banana
Three banana, four
Four bananas make a bunch
And so do many more
Over hill and highway
The banana buggies go
Comin' on to bring you
The Banana Splits Show
Makin' up a mess of fun
Makin' up a mess of fun
Lots of fun for everyone
Tra-la-la, la-la-la-la
Tra-la-la, la-la-la-la
Tra-la-la, la-la-la-la
Tra-la-la, la-la-la-la
Four banana, three banana
Two banana, one
All bananas playing in the bright warm sun
Flippin' like a pancake, poppin' like a cork
Fleagle, Bingo, Drooper an' Snork
Makin' up a mess of fun
Makin' up a mess of fun
Lots of fun for everyone
Tra-la-la, la-la-la-la
Tra-la-la, la-la-la-la
Tra-la-la, la-la-la-la
Tra-la-la, la-la-la-la
Two banana, four banana
One banana, three
Swingin' like a bunch of monkeys
Hangin' from a tree
Hey there everybody
Won't you come along and see
How much like banana splits
Everyone can be
Makin' up a mess of fun
Makin' up a mess of fun
Lots of fun for everyone
Tra-la-la, la-la-la-la
Tra-la-la, la-la-la-la
Tra-la-la, la-la-la-la
Tra-la-la, la-la-la-la

song performed by Liz Phair
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Brus Book X

[Preparations for battle against John of Lorn]
Quhen Thomas Randell on this wis
Wes takyn as Ik her devys
And send to dwell in gud keping
For spek that he spak to the king,
The gud king that thocht on the scaith
The dispyt and felny bath
That Jhone off Lorne had till him doyn
His ost assemblyt he then sone
And towart Lorn he tuk the way
With his men intill gud aray.
Bot Jhone off Lorn off his cummyng
Lang or he come had wittering,
And men on ilk sid gadryt he
I trow twa thousand thai mycht be
And send thaim for to stop the way
Quhar the gud king behovyt away,
And that wes in an evill plas
That sa strayt and sa narow was
That twasum samyn mycht nocht rid
In sum place off the hillis sid.
The nethyr halff was peralous
For schor crag hey and hydwous
Raucht to the se doun fra the pas,
On athyr halff the montane was
Sua combrous hey and stay
That it was hard to pas that way.
I trow nocht that in all Bretane
Ane heyar hill may fundyn be.
Thar Jhone off Lorne gert his menye
Enbuschyt be abovyn the way,
For giff the king held thar away
He thocht he suld sone vencussyt be,
And himselff held him apon the se
Weill ner the pais with his galayis.
Bot the king that in all assayis
Wes fundyn wys and avisé
Persavyt rycht weill thar sutelte,
And that he neid that gait suld ga.
His men departyt he in twa
And till the gud lord off Douglas
Quham in herbryd all worschip was
He taucht the archerys everilkane
And this gud lord with him has tane
Schyr Alysander Fraser the wycht,
And Wylyam Wysman a gud knycht
And with thaim syne Schyr Androw Gray.
Thir with thar mengne held thar way
And clamb the hill deliverly
And or thai off the tother party

[...] Read more

poem by John Barbour
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

I Am Your Doctor (feat. Wayne Wonder & Elephant Man)

Intro & Chorus: Wyclef Jean
I am your doctor (Yeah yeah yeah) heres the prescription (Girl!!!)
Two teaspoons of my friendship, a full cup of my love
(Yo Wayne Wonder, you ready to talk to the girls, lets go)
Verse 1: Wayne Wonder (Wyclef Jean)
I will be knockin by the time me come a four
Here comes the doctor baby worry no more
I will bring the remedy baby I will bring the cure
Give you what you want and absolutely I am sure
Take my hand Ill be your man
Let me take you to the sunshine island
I will be your therapy, let it be
You know you need my healing (Wait a minute!!!)
Chorus: Wyclef Jean
I am your doctor (Yeah yeah yeah) heres the prescription (Yeah yeah yeah)
Two teaspoons of my friendship, a full cup of my love
(Gimme some love, gimme some love)
And if your back is hurtin, turn around girl
See, Im your chiropractor (Wayne Wonder: La da dow da dow!!!)
Please!!! Lay on this sofa (Wayne Wonder: Oh na na na now!!!)
And let me message your back (Wayne Wonder: Your back)
So I can feel whats wrong (Girl whats wrong, girl whats wrong, girl whats wrong)
(Yo Wayne, talk to the girls man)
Verse 2: Wayne Wonder (Wyclef Jean)
If you got a problem and you wanna get it fixed
Send for the doctor with the medicine for your chest
Fill your prescription with the right mix
My kiss and I will say what kind of miracle is this
Take my hand Ill be your man
Let me take you to the sunshine island
I will be your therapy, let it be
You know you need my healing (Let me talk to them now)
Verse 3: Wyclef Jean
When you make it to the emergency room (Yeah)
Tell the nurse I said that she dont need no, coverage no, no no no
(Wayne Wonder: Oh na na na now)
Cause I been waitin to operate on you all night
So lay back, relax, feel my hands right through your hair
Chorus: Wyclef Jean
I am your doctor (Oh yeah yeah) heres the prescription
Two teaspoons of my friendship, a full cup of my love
(Wait a minute Elephant Man, talk to di gal dem)
Verse 4: Elephant Man (Wyclef Jean)
Dem call mi Dr. Love, ready fi di surgery gimme di gloves
Mouth to mouth respiration a weh she love
You mi thermometer test har and she hundred above
Give har di lovin and she melt like a fudge
Mi have di PHD, mi qualify mi have mi degree
Fi give she di remedy from a di therapy
Nuh waan see nuh night nurse so she come a mi

[...] Read more

song performed by Wyclef Jean
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Hello, Rainbow!

Rainbow, Rainbow
that was her nickname.
A name she had obtained,
for all the colors she'd appreciate.
Rainbow, Rainbow
that was her calling
to come out in style to show the worlds vibrant.
Rainbow, Rainbow
they laughed at her colors
said she was different
not normal like others.
Rainbow, Rainbow
they took her as a joke.
Just a mere girl looking for attention you know?
Rainbow, Rainbow
lover of rain
not a care in the world of what other people say.
Rainbow, Rainbow
she started too change
The world saw her brightly
now shes all black and grey.
Rainbow, Rainbow
why goes this way.
We've all secretly loved you.
So why not stay the same!
Rainbow, Rainbow
you bring us joy
You shed light too our day.
So go back to your ways
Rainbow, Rainbow
we appreciate your love!
We see differently now
so stay who you are.
Rainbow, Rainbow!
That's who I am.
A girl of 14
who is oddly at best.
Rainbow, Rainbow!
Everyone calls me that.
I'm just a use for you all
, but i don't mind that.
Rainbow, Rainbow
A mirror image I am.
A reflection of colors
that most people don't understand.
Rainbow, Rainbow
you called my name?
Why hello I'm here.
To shed light to your day

poem by Michelle Mawyin
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Lord of the Isles: Canto II.

I.
Fill the bright goblet, spread the festive board!
Summon the gay, the noble, and the fair!
Through the loud hall, in joyous concert pour'd,
Let mirth and music sound the dirge of Care!
But ask thou not if Happiness be there,
If the loud laugh disguise convulsive throe,
Or if the brow the heart's true livery wear;
Lift not the festal mask! - enough to know,
No scene of mortal life but teems with mortal woe.

II.
With beaker's clang, with harpers' lay,
With all that olden time deem'd gay,
The Island Chieftain feasted high;
But there was in his troubled eye
A gloomy fire, and on his brow
Now sudden flush'd, and faded now,
Emotions such as draw their birth
From deeper source than festal mirth.
By fits he paused, and harper's strain
And jester's tale went round in vain,
Or fell but on his idle ear
Like distant sounds which dreamers hear.
Then would he rouse him, and employ
Each art to aid the clamorous joy,
And call for pledge and lay,
And, for brief space, of all the crowd,
As he was loudest of the loud,
Seem gayest of the gay.

III.
Yet nought amiss the bridal throng
Mark'd in brief mirth, or musing long;
The vacant brow, the unlistening ear,
They gave to thoughts of raptures near,
And his fierce starts of sudden glee
Seem'd bursts of bridegroom's ecstasy.
Nor thus alone misjudged the crowd,
Since lofty Lorn, suspicious, proud,
And jealous of his honour'd line,
And that keen knight, De Argentine,
(From England sent on errand high,
The western league more firm to tie),
Both deem'd in Ronald's mood to find
A lover's transport-troubled mind.
But one sad heart, one tearful eye,
Pierced deeper through the mystery,
And watch'd, with agony and fear,
Her wayward bridegroom's varied cheer.

[...] Read more

poem by Sir Walter Scott
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Glenfinlas; or, Lord Ronald's Coronach

'O hone a rie'! O hone a rie!'
The pride of Albin's line is o'er,
And fall'n Glenartney's stateliest tree;
We ne'er shall see Lord Ronald more!' -

O, sprung from great Macgillianore,
The chief that never fear'd a foe,
How matchless was thy broad claymore,
How deadly thine unerring bow!

Well can the Saxon widows tell,
How, on the Teith's resounding shore,
The boldest Lowland warriors fell,
As down from Lenny's pass you bore.

But o'er his hills, in festal day,
How blazed Lord Ronald's beltrane tree, *
While youths and maids in light strathspey,
So nimbly danced with Highland glee!

Cheer'd by the strength of Ronald's shell,
E'en age forgot his tresses hoar;
But now the loud lament we swell,
O ne'er to see Lord Ronald more!

From distant isles a chieftain came,
The joys of Ronald's halls to find,
And chase with him the dark-brown game,
That bounds o'er Albin's hills of wind.

'Twas Moy; whom in Columba's isle
The seer's prophetic spirit found,
As with a minstrel's fire the while,
He waked his harp's harmonious sound.

Full many a spell to him was known,
Which wandering spirits shrink to hear;
And many a lay of potent tone,
Was never meant for mortal ear.

For there, 'tis said, in mystic mood,
High converse with the dead they hold,
And oft espy the fated shroud,
That shall the future corpse enfold.

O so it fell, that on a day,
To rouse the red deer from their den,
The Chiefs have ta'en their distant way,
And scour'd the deep Glenfinlas glen.

[...] Read more

poem by Sir Walter Scott
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

My Dream of Iris

I dreamt I cast an overarching path
Of coloured scales
Thriving on the solar rays that play upon
The waning of the storm –

I’d thrown a filmy avenue to reconnect
Empyrean with humankind!

Elated, I flitted through refracted hues –
Those from watery spheres that
Fan the iridescent prism.

And more: shimmering sprites in dance atop the spray
Conveyed adieus to gods
Departing for their hallowed visitation…

I woke and pined anon,
Begging Iris: ‘Be so kind and

Take us on your wing to new endeavours –
Show that nothing in the ether tempers you!
And every time you render us a rainbow,
See it fires a lust for zest anew! ’

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010

[...] Read more

poem by Mark R Slaughter
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Lord of the Isles: Canto VI.

I.
O who, that shared them, ever shall forget
The emotions of the spirit-rousing time,
When breathless in the mart the couriers met,
Early and late, at evening and at prime;
When the loud cannon and the merry chime
Hail'd news on news, as field on field was won,
When Hope, long doubtful, soar'd at length sublime,
And our glad eyes, awake as day begun,
Watch'd Joy's broad banner rise, to meet the rising sun!
O these were hours, when thrilling joy repaid
A long, long course of darkness, doubts, and fears!
The heart-sick faintness of the hope delay'd,
The waste, the woe, the bloodshed, and the tears,
That track'd with terror twenty rolling years,
All was forgot in that blithe jubilee!
Her downcast eye even pale Affliction rears,
To sigh a thankful prayer, amid the glee,
That hail'd the Despot's fall, and peace and liberty!

Such news o'er Scotland's hills triumphant rode,
When 'gainst the invaders turn'd the battle's scale,
When Bruce's banner had victorious flow'd
O'er Loudoun's mountain, and in Ury's vale;
And fiery English blood oft deluged Douglas-dale,
And fiery Edward routed stout St. John,
When Randolph's war-cry swell'd the southern gale,
And many a fortress, town, and tower, was won,
And fame still sounded forth fresh deeds of glory done.

II.
Blithe tidings flew from baron's tower,
To peasant's cot, to forest-bower,
And waked the solitary cell,
Where lone Saint Bride's recluses dwell.
Princess no more, fair Isabel,
A vot'ress of the order now,
Say, did the rule that bid thee wear
Dim veil and wollen scapulare,
And reft thy locks of dark-brown hair,
That stern and rigid vow,
Did it condemn the transport high,
Which glisten'd in thy watery eye,
When minstrel or when palmer told
Each fresh exploit of Bruce the bold?-
And whose the lovely form, that shares
Thy anxious hopes, thy fears, thy prayers?
No sister she of convent shade;
So say these locks in lengthen'd braid,
So say the blushes and the sighs,

[...] Read more

poem by Sir Walter Scott
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Lady Clare

IT was the time when lilies blow,
And clouds are highest up in air,
Lord Ronald brought a lily-white doe
To give his cousin, Lady Clare.

I trow they did not part in scorn-
Lovers long-betroth'd were they:
They too will wed the morrow morn:
God's blessing on the day !

'He does not love me for my birth,
Nor for my lands so broad and fair;
He loves me for my own true worth,
And that is well,' said Lady Clare.

In there came old Alice the nurse,
Said, 'Who was this that went from thee?'
'It was my cousin,' said Lady Clare,
'To-morrow he weds vith me.'

'O God be thank'd!' said Alice the nurse,
' That all comes round so just and fair:
Lord Ronald is heir of all your lands,
And you are not the Lady Clare.'

'Are ye out of your mind, my nurse, my nurse?'
Said Lady Clare, 'that ye speak so wild?'
'As God's above,' said Alice the nurse,
' I speak the truth: you are my child.

'The old Earl's daughter died at my breast;
I speak the truth, as I live by bread!
I buried her like my own sweet child,
And put my child in her stead.'

'Falsely, falsely have ye done,
O mother,' she said, ' if this be true,
To keep the best man under the sun
So many years from his due.'

'Nay now, my child,' said Alice the nurse,
'But keep the secret for your life,
And all you have will be Lord Ronald's,
When you are man and wife.'

' If I'm a beggar born,' she said,
'I will speak out, for I dare not lie.
Pull off, pull off, the brooch of gold,
And fling the diamond necklace by.'

[...] Read more

poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!