For Mona Liza....
hello sweet lemon,
did you call me a sour grape?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Lemon's Quest
The whole of the fruit world were assembled
to hear what the lemon had to say.
In anticipation the fruit sat and trembled,
would it be the lemon’s day?
“Why can’t there be a sweet tasting lemon? ”
Said lemon in a tone of revolt.
To the fruit world this was open rebellion
and had to be brought to a halt.
The atmosphere turned sour towards lemon,
as he said, “This is not a lot to ask,
it’s a reasonable enough question,
and I’m sure not a major task.
I cannot understand your objections
about a fruit that wants to progress.
I’m open to all and any suggestions,
but until then I’ll sit and digress.”
The avocado replied to the question,
“The lemon is bitter and that is that! ”
“That’s an unfounded objection, ” said lemon.
“It maybe, ” said the Chairman, “but it is a matter of fact.”
The language was now strong and offensive,
as Chairman Plum called out for restraint,
“Order, fruit please, we must not be derisive.”
The tangerine looked likely to faint.
Chairman Plum summed up with a speech,
“This raises many questions for all nations, ”
he was then rudely interrupted by the peach,
“Just think about the complications? ”
A voice shouted from the back of the room,
it was grape with an answer to the problem,
“A sweet lemon must have its own bloom,
without it there will be no conclusion.
The answer is simply, graft and propagation,
a vine, with a lemon tree shoot.
It’s straight forward and without complication,
and should produce a sweet lemon fruit.”
The assembly calmed and became much quieter;
grape was thanked for his solution.
The outlook was now decidedly brighter,
bringing an end to the lemon’s resolution.
[...] Read more
poem by Orlando Belo
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The Sour Lemon Tree
A sour lemon tree flower attracts the bee
While its fruit is bitter not so its flower
White is its flower sweet and very pretty
Only the fruit is bitter and that's just a pity
As the beauty of its flower resist not a bee
It's the simple truth
Or see the sour lemon tree
With fruit that is bitter bears a lemon tree
But useful is its fruit good for everyday use
Once said a bee... your flower is very sweet
It carries fragrance scented out in the street
Yet bears you fruit bitter no one wants to eat
It's partly the truth
Or see the sour lemon tree
A citrus tree with fruit no other tree bears
Then out of the tree came a nice neat voice
'Twas like a voice of one who's very wise
This is what it said trees are not so free
One made a decree for every bearing tree
It's partly the truth
Or see the sour lemon tree
The Creator decides the fruit a tree bears
Whether it be bitter or whether it be sweet
The Creator decrees for every bearing tree
To bring forth fruit ordained for it to bear
Then sweet or bitter bears a tree its fruit
It's the simple truth
Or see the sour lemon tree.
poem by Clarence Prince
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Sweet Ride
(lee hazlewood)
Sweet ride
Give up, you wont survive
Youll never get out alive
This world wont let you
I bet you
And if it did
Whats it gonna get you?
What counts is a-how you feel inside
Girls, loves the sweet ride, mmm
Sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet ride
Youd better hang loose
Dont come undone
Its better to walk than run
Each day is just something to glide on
And each nights made to slip and slide on
What counts is a-how you feel inside
Girls, loves the sweet ride
Its such a sweet, sweet ride
Yeah, sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet ride
Sweet, its such a sweet, sweet ride, yeah
Hang loose
Dont come undone
Its better to walk than run
Each day is just something to glide on
And each nights made to slip and a-slide on
What counts is a-how you feel inside
Girls, loves the sweet ride
Loves such a sweet, sweet ride
Mmm, sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet , sweet, sweet ride
Sweet, such a sweet, sweet ride
Yeah, its such a sweet, sweet ride
Youd better hang lose
Youll never survive
cause love is such a sweet, sweet ride
Sweet, such a sweet, sweet ride
Sweet
song performed by Dusty Springfield
Added by Lucian Velea
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Sweet Sour Apple Bites
Orchard of apple and variety
Here you come, the apples lover
Come sing and praise like always
'Shining around the skin
Your colour is my favorite apple
The fresh one
So is your taste'
Apples smile and sing
'If i am green
A sweet sour love
Bite one, bite two
Bite still
Taste me my apples lover
Taste my sweet sour love
I'm green and sour
Pluck me bite me my lover'
The hunter replies
Bite one and some
Tasted your sour love
Bite still because i am the apple lover'
Apples smile continue the song
'If i am red apple
Sweet and moist
Bite one, then two
Bite more
Taste my sweet life
I'm red and taste nice
Bite one bite some
Taste me sweet you will like it'
'Green or Red
Bite sweet or bite sour
I must love you my apples
simply because...
I am the true apple lover'
Explained hunter
Sweet red or sour green
Sugar rich energy will reach your heart sooner
Running in your blood and pump the beat so dear
'O apples my dear i grow you in orchard to be with me so near'
Confessed by gardener, before apple answered
'You work hard and love so sincere, will fruit you love every year'
Bite one, sweet or sour everyday
Promise keeps you away from doctor
Bite one Bite some Bite all say the lover
[...] Read more
poem by Unwritten Soul
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Rosalind and Helen: a Modern Eclogue
ROSALIND, HELEN, and her Child.
SCENE. The Shore of the Lake of Como.
HELEN
Come hither, my sweet Rosalind.
'T is long since thou and I have met;
And yet methinks it were unkind
Those moments to forget.
Come, sit by me. I see thee stand
By this lone lake, in this far land,
Thy loose hair in the light wind flying,
Thy sweet voice to each tone of even
United, and thine eyes replying
To the hues of yon fair heaven.
Come, gentle friend! wilt sit by me?
And be as thou wert wont to be
Ere we were disunited?
None doth behold us now; the power
That led us forth at this lone hour
Will be but ill requited
If thou depart in scorn. Oh, come,
And talk of our abandoned home!
Remember, this is Italy,
And we are exiles. Talk with me
Of that our land, whose wilds and floods,
Barren and dark although they be,
Were dearer than these chestnut woods;
Those heathy paths, that inland stream,
And the blue mountains, shapes which seem
Like wrecks of childhood's sunny dream;
Which that we have abandoned now,
Weighs on the heart like that remorse
Which altered friendship leaves. I seek
No more our youthful intercourse.
That cannot be! Rosalind, speak,
Speak to me! Leave me not! When morn did come,
When evening fell upon our common home,
When for one hour we parted,--do not frown;
I would not chide thee, though thy faith is broken;
But turn to me. Oh! by this cherished token
Of woven hair, which thou wilt not disown,
Turn, as 't were but the memory of me,
And not my scornèd self who prayed to thee!
ROSALIND
Is it a dream, or do I see
And hear frail Helen? I would flee
Thy tainting touch; but former years
Arise, and bring forbidden tears;
[...] Read more
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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You Like To Pour It
You don't want lemon in your tea.
Even though it's mixed in the recipe.
But yet you pour it.
You like to sip a bit while sitting just to pour it.
You like to pour it.
You don't want lemon in your tea.
Even though it's mixed in the recipe.
But yet you pour it.
You like to sip a bit while sitting just to pour it.
You like to pour it.
Yet you pour it.
You like to sip a bit while sitting just to pour it.
You like to pour it.
You don't want lemon in your tea.
But yet you pour it.
You like to sip a bit while sitting just to pour it.
You like to pour it.
Even though it's in the recipe,
You pour it.
And...
Whether or not the lemon's in it you pour it.
You like to pour it.
You like to sip a bit while sitting just to pour it.
You like to pour it.
And...
Whether or not the lemon's in it you pour it.
And...
Whether or not the lemon's in it you pour it.
And...
Whether or not the lemon's in it you pour it.
You like to sip a bit while sitting just to pour it.
You like to pour it.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A pair of Sparrows on my lovely Lemon Tree
Those were the days
So joyous and carefree
When I could watch the preening of
A pair of sparrows on my lovely lemon tree
Summer days were so short, winters were so long
And for endless hours one could go on a kite flying spree
When I could watch, hopping here and there
A pair of sparrows on my lovely lemon tree
Enjoying tender sunshine in winter is a past
And chapattis from an earthen hearth a history
When I could watch, assembling of a nest by
A pair of sparrows on my lovely lemon tree
What seemed to be mundane at that time
Life in my backyard so ordinary
Bliss it is in hindsight, chirping of
A pair of sparrows on my lovely lemon tree
I still sometimes motivate myself
To get off the treadmill and shake the shackles free
But can’t anymore find in my back yard
That pair of sparrows and that lovely lemon tree
A pair of sparrows on my lovely lemon tree..
A pair of sparrows on my lovely lemon tree.......
30 July 09
poem by Ravi Singh
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Wild Honey
B. wilson
Mama Im tellin you as sure as Im standin here
Shes my girl and thats the way Im keepin it my mama dear
No good will it do you to stand there and frown at me
The girls got my heart and my loves comin down on me
Last time I met her since I got a taste of wild honey
(sweet, sweet, my honey bee)
You know shes got the sweetness of the honey bee
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
Honey, (sweet, sweet, my honey bee) she got me all and stung me good, oh, yesiree
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
Before he even stung bees buzzin around her hive
She singled me out, single handed took me alive
Im gonna take her home and spend my life
Eatin up the wild honey
(sweet, sweet, my honey bee)
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
(sweet, sweet, my honey bee)
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
Oh mama shes sweeter (sweeter) and sweeter (sweeter) and sweeter, sweeter
Yaaaa, honey (sweet, sweet, my honey bee)
Let me tell you how she really got to my soul (sweet,sweet my honey)
It aint funny, (sweet, sweet, my honey bee) the way she made me want to sing a little rock and
Roll (sweet, sweet, my honey)
Theres nothing quite as good as the taste of wild honey
Break my back workin just to save me some money
I can spend my life with her eatin up her wild honey
(sweet, sweet, my honey bee)
Oh honey shes sweeter (sweeter) and sweeter (sweeter) and sweeter, sweeter
Now
(sweet, sweet, my honey bee)
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
(sweet, sweet, my honey bee)
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
Gimme some gimme some
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
Gimme some gimme some(shes the one)
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
Gimme some wild honey
Gimme some gimme some..........
song performed by Nazareth
Added by Lucian Velea
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Venus and Adonis
Even as the sun with purple-colour'd face
Had ta'en his last leave of the weeping morn,
Rose-cheek'd Adonis tried him to the chase;
Hunting he lov'd, but love he laugh'd to scorn;
Sick-thoughted Venus makes amain unto him,
And like a bold-fac'd suitor 'gins to woo him.
'Thrice fairer than myself,' thus she began,
'The field's chief flower, sweet above compare,
Stain to all nymphs, more lovely than a man,
More white and red than doves or roses are;
Nature that made thee, with herself at strife,
Saith that the world hath ending with thy life.
'Vouchsafe, thou wonder, to alight thy steed,
And rein his proud head to the saddle-bow;
If thou wilt deign this favour, for thy meed
A thousand honey secrets shalt thou know:
Here come and sit, where never serpent hisses;
And being set, I'll smother thee with kisses:
'And yet not cloy thy lips with loath'd satiety,
But rather famish them amid their plenty,
Making them red and pale with fresh variety;
Ten kisses short as one, one long as twenty:
A summer's day will seem an hour but short,
Being wasted in such time-beguiling sport.'
With this she seizeth on his sweating palm,
The precedent of pith and livelihood,
And, trembling in her passion, calls it balm,
Earth's sovereign salve to do a goddess good:
Being so enrag'd, desire doth lend her force
Courageously to pluck him from his horse.
Over one arm the lusty courser's rein
Under her other was the tender boy,
Who blush'd and pouted in a dull disdain,
With leaden appetite, unapt to toy;
She red and hot as coals of glowing fire
He red for shame, but frosty in desire.
The studded bridle on a ragged bough
Nimbly she fastens;--O! how quick is love:--
The steed is stalled up, and even now
To tie the rider she begins to prove:
Backward she push'd him, as she would be thrust,
And govern'd him in strength, though not in lust.
So soon was she along, as he was down,
Each leaning on their elbows and their hips:
Now doth she stroke his cheek, now doth he frown,
And 'gins to chide, but soon she stops his lips;
And kissing speaks, with lustful language broken,
'If thou wilt chide, thy lips shall never open.'
He burns with bashful shame; she with her tears
Doth quench the maiden burning of his cheeks;
[...] Read more
poem by William Shakespeare (1593)
Added by Dan Costinaş
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Venus and Adonis
'Vilia miretur vulgus; mihi flavus Apollo
Pocula Castalia plena ministret aqua.'
To the right honorable Henry Wriothesly, Earl of Southampton, and Baron of Tichfield.
Right honorable.
I know not how I shall offend in dedicating my unpolished lines to your lordship, nor how the world will censure me for choosing so strong a prop to support so weak a burden only, if your honour seem but pleased, I account myself highly praised, and vow to take advantage of all idle hours, till I have honoured you with some graver labour. But if the first heir of my invention prove deformed, I shall be sorry it had so noble a god-father, and never after ear so barren a land, for fear it yield me still so bad a harvest. I leave it to your honourable survey, and your honour to your heart's content; which I wish may always answer your own wish and the world's hopeful expectation.
Your honour's in all duty.
Even as the sun with purple-colour'd face
Had ta'en his last leave of the weeping morn,
Rose-cheek'd Adonis hied him to the chase;
Hunting he loved, but love he laugh'd to scorn;
Sick-thoughted Venus makes amain unto him,
And like a bold-faced suitor 'gins to woo him.
'Thrice-fairer than myself,' thus she began,
'The field's chief flower, sweet above compare,
Stain to all nymphs, more lovely than a man,
More white and red than doves or roses are;
Nature that made thee, with herself at strife,
Saith that the world hath ending with thy life.
'Vouchsafe, thou wonder, to alight thy steed,
And rein his proud head to the saddle-bow;
If thou wilt deign this favour, for thy meed
A thousand honey secrets shalt thou know:
Here come and sit, where never serpent hisses,
And being set, I'll smother thee with kisses;
'And yet not cloy thy lips with loathed satiety,
But rather famish them amid their plenty,
Making them red and pale with fresh variety,
Ten kisses short as one, one long as twenty:
A summer's day will seem an hour but short,
Being wasted in such time-beguiling sport.'
With this she seizeth on his sweating palm,
The precedent of pith and livelihood,
And trembling in her passion, calls it balm,
Earth's sovereign salve to do a goddess good:
Being so enraged, desire doth lend her force
Courageously to pluck him from his horse.
Over one arm the lusty courser's rein,
Under her other was the tender boy,
Who blush'd and pouted in a dull disdain,
With leaden appetite, unapt to toy;
She red and hot as coals of glowing fire,
He red for shame, but frosty in desire.
The studded bridle on a ragged bough
Nimbly she fastens:--O, how quick is love!--
The steed is stalled up, and even now
To tie the rider she begins to prove:
[...] Read more
poem by William Shakespeare
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Canto the First
I
I want a hero: an uncommon want,
When every year and month sends forth a new one,
Till, after cloying the gazettes with cant,
The age discovers he is not the true one;
Of such as these I should not care to vaunt,
I'll therefore take our ancient friend Don Juan—
We all have seen him, in the pantomime,
Sent to the devil somewhat ere his time.
II
Vernon, the butcher Cumberland, Wolfe, Hawke,
Prince Ferdinand, Granby, Burgoyne, Keppel, Howe,
Evil and good, have had their tithe of talk,
And fill'd their sign posts then, like Wellesley now;
Each in their turn like Banquo's monarchs stalk,
Followers of fame, "nine farrow" of that sow:
France, too, had Buonaparté and Dumourier
Recorded in the Moniteur and Courier.
III
Barnave, Brissot, Condorcet, Mirabeau,
Petion, Clootz, Danton, Marat, La Fayette,
Were French, and famous people, as we know:
And there were others, scarce forgotten yet,
Joubert, Hoche, Marceau, Lannes, Desaix, Moreau,
With many of the military set,
Exceedingly remarkable at times,
But not at all adapted to my rhymes.
IV
Nelson was once Britannia's god of war,
And still should be so, but the tide is turn'd;
There's no more to be said of Trafalgar,
'T is with our hero quietly inurn'd;
Because the army's grown more popular,
At which the naval people are concern'd;
Besides, the prince is all for the land-service,
Forgetting Duncan, Nelson, Howe, and Jervis.
V
Brave men were living before Agamemnon
And since, exceeding valorous and sage,
A good deal like him too, though quite the same none;
But then they shone not on the poet's page,
And so have been forgotten:—I condemn none,
But can't find any in the present age
Fit for my poem (that is, for my new one);
So, as I said, I'll take my friend Don Juan.
[...] Read more
poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Georgics
GEORGIC I
What makes the cornfield smile; beneath what star
Maecenas, it is meet to turn the sod
Or marry elm with vine; how tend the steer;
What pains for cattle-keeping, or what proof
Of patient trial serves for thrifty bees;-
Such are my themes.
O universal lights
Most glorious! ye that lead the gliding year
Along the sky, Liber and Ceres mild,
If by your bounty holpen earth once changed
Chaonian acorn for the plump wheat-ear,
And mingled with the grape, your new-found gift,
The draughts of Achelous; and ye Fauns
To rustics ever kind, come foot it, Fauns
And Dryad-maids together; your gifts I sing.
And thou, for whose delight the war-horse first
Sprang from earth's womb at thy great trident's stroke,
Neptune; and haunter of the groves, for whom
Three hundred snow-white heifers browse the brakes,
The fertile brakes of Ceos; and clothed in power,
Thy native forest and Lycean lawns,
Pan, shepherd-god, forsaking, as the love
Of thine own Maenalus constrains thee, hear
And help, O lord of Tegea! And thou, too,
Minerva, from whose hand the olive sprung;
And boy-discoverer of the curved plough;
And, bearing a young cypress root-uptorn,
Silvanus, and Gods all and Goddesses,
Who make the fields your care, both ye who nurse
The tender unsown increase, and from heaven
Shed on man's sowing the riches of your rain:
And thou, even thou, of whom we know not yet
What mansion of the skies shall hold thee soon,
Whether to watch o'er cities be thy will,
Great Caesar, and to take the earth in charge,
That so the mighty world may welcome thee
Lord of her increase, master of her times,
Binding thy mother's myrtle round thy brow,
Or as the boundless ocean's God thou come,
Sole dread of seamen, till far Thule bow
Before thee, and Tethys win thee to her son
With all her waves for dower; or as a star
Lend thy fresh beams our lagging months to cheer,
Where 'twixt the Maid and those pursuing Claws
A space is opening; see! red Scorpio's self
His arms draws in, yea, and hath left thee more
Than thy full meed of heaven: be what thou wilt-
For neither Tartarus hopes to call thee king,
[...] Read more

The Sidewinder Sleep Tonight
This here is the place I will be staying.
There isn't a number. You can call the pay phone.
Let it ring a long, long, long, long time.
If I don't pick up, hang up, call back, let it ring some more.
If I don't pick up, pick up... The sidewinder sleeps, sleeps, sleeps in a coil
Call me when you try to wake her up. Call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. Call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. Call me when you try to wake her.
There are scratches all around the coin slot
like a heartbeat, baby trying to wake up,
but this machine can only swallow money.
You can't lay a patch by computer design.
It's just a lot of stupid, stupid signs.
Tell her,
tell her she can kiss my ass, then laugh and say that you were only kidding.
That way she'll know that it's really, really, really, really me.
Call me when you try to wake her up. Call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. Call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. Call me when you try to wake her.
Baby, instant soup doesn't really grab me.
Today I need something more sub-sub-sub-substantial.
A can of beans or blackeyed peas, some Nescafe and ice,
a candy bar, a falling star, or a reading of Doctor Seuss;
Call me when you try to wake her up. Call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. Call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. Call me when you try to wake her.
The cat in the hat came back, wrecked a lot of havoc on the way,
always had a smile and a reason to pretend.
But their world has flat backgrounds and little need to sleep but to dream.
The sidewinder sleeps on his back.
Call me when you try to wake her up. Call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. Call me when you try to wake her.
I can always sleep standing up. Call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. Call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. Call me when you try to wake her.
I can always sleep standing up. Call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. Call me when you try to wake her.
I can always sleep standing up. Call me when you try to wake her.
I can always sleep standing up. Call me when you try to wake her.
We've got to moogie, moogie, move on this one
song performed by REM
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Sidewinder Sleeps Tonight
This here is the place I will be staying.
There isnt a number. you can call the pay phone.
Let it ring a long, long, long, long time.
If I dont pick up, hang up, call back, let it ring some more.
If I dont pick up, pick up... the sidewinder sleeps, sleeps, sleeps in a coil
Call me when you try to wake her up. call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. call me when you try to wake her.
There are scratches all around the coin slot
Like a heartbeat, baby trying to wake up,
But this machine can only swallow money.
You cant lay a patch by computer design.
Its just a lot of stupid, stupid signs.
Tell her,
Tell her she can kiss my ass, then laugh and say that you were only kidding.
That way shell know that its really, really, really, really me.
Call me when you try to wake her up. call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. call me when you try to wake her.
Baby, instant soup doesnt really grab me.
Today I need something more sub-sub-sub-substantial.
A can of beans or blackeyed peas, some nescafe and ice,
A candy bar, a falling star, or a reading of doctor seuss;
Call me when you try to wake her up. call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. call me when you try to wake her.
The cat in the hat came back, wrecked a lot of havoc on the way,
Always had a smile and a reason to pretend.
But their world has flat backgrounds and little need to sleep but to dream.
The sidewinder sleeps on his back.
Call me when you try to wake her up. call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. call me when you try to wake her.
I can always sleep standing up. call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. call me when you try to wake her.
I can always sleep standing up. call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. call me when you try to wake her.
I can always sleep standing up. call me when you try to wake her.
I can always sleep standing up. call me when you try to wake her.
Weve got to moogie, moogie, move on this one.
song performed by REM
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Helot
I.
Low the sun beat on the land,
Red on vine and plain and wood;
With the wine-cup in his hand,
Vast the Helot herdsman stood.
II.
Quench'd the fierce Achean gaze,
Dorian foemen paus'd before,
Where cold Sparta snatch'd her bays
At Achaea's stubborn door.
III.
Still with thews of iron bound,
Vastly the Achean rose,
Godward from the brazen ground,
High before his Spartan foes.
IV.
Still the strength his fathers knew
(Dauntless when the foe they fac'd)
Vein and muscle bounded through,
Tense his Helot sinews brac'd.
V.
Still the constant womb of Earth,
Blindly moulded all her part;
As, when to a lordly birth,
Achean freemen left her heart.
VI.
Still, insensate mother, bore
Goodly sons for Helot graves;
Iron necks that meekly wore
Sparta's yoke as Sparta's slaves.
VII.
[...] Read more
poem by Isabella Valancy Crawford
Added by Poetry Lover
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The Two Dreams
I WILL that if I say a heavy thing
Your tongues forgive me; seeing ye know that spring
Has flecks and fits of pain to keep her sweet,
And walks somewhile with winter-bitten feet.
Moreover it sounds often well to let
One string, when ye play music, keep at fret
The whole song through; one petal that is dead
Confirms the roses, be they white or red;
Dead sorrow is not sorrowful to hear
As the thick noise that breaks mid weeping were;
The sick sound aching in a lifted throat
Turns to sharp silver of a perfect note;
And though the rain falls often, and with rain
Late autumn falls on the old red leaves like pain,
I deem that God is not disquieted.
Also while men are fed with wine and bread,
They shall be fed with sorrow at his hand.
There grew a rose-garden in Florence land
More fair than many; all red summers through
The leaves smelt sweet and sharp of rain, and blew
Sideways with tender wind; and therein fell
Sweet sound wherewith the green waxed audible,
As a bird’s will to sing disturbed his throat
And set the sharp wings forward like a boat
Pushed through soft water, moving his brown side
Smooth-shapen as a maid’s, and shook with pride
His deep warm bosom, till the heavy sun’s
Set face of heat stopped all the songs at once.
The ways were clean to walk and delicate;
And when the windy white of March grew late,
Before the trees took heart to face the sun
With ravelled raiment of lean winter on,
The roots were thick and hot with hollow grass.
Some roods away a lordly house there was,
Cool with broad courts and latticed passage wet
From rush-flowers and lilies ripe to set,
Sown close among the strewings of the floor;
And either wall of the slow corridor
Was dim with deep device of gracious things;
Some angel’s steady mouth and weight of wings
Shut to the side; or Peter with straight stole
And beard cut black against the aureole
That spanned his head from nape to crown; thereby
Mary’s gold hair, thick to the girdle-tie
Wherein was bound a child with tender feet;
Or the broad cross with blood nigh brown on it.
Within this house a righteous lord abode,
[...] Read more
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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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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The Plea Of The Midsummer Fairies
I
'Twas in that mellow season of the year
When the hot sun singes the yellow leaves
Till they be gold,—and with a broader sphere
The Moon looks down on Ceres and her sheaves;
When more abundantly the spider weaves,
And the cold wind breathes from a chillier clime;—
That forth I fared, on one of those still eves,
Touch'd with the dewy sadness of the time,
To think how the bright months had spent their prime,
II
So that, wherever I address'd my way,
I seem'd to track the melancholy feet
Of him that is the Father of Decay,
And spoils at once the sour weed and the sweet;—
Wherefore regretfully I made retreat
To some unwasted regions of my brain,
Charm'd with the light of summer and the heat,
And bade that bounteous season bloom again,
And sprout fresh flowers in mine own domain.
III
It was a shady and sequester'd scene,
Like those famed gardens of Boccaccio,
Planted with his own laurels evergreen,
And roses that for endless summer blow;
And there were fountain springs to overflow
Their marble basins,—and cool green arcades
Of tall o'erarching sycamores, to throw
Athwart the dappled path their dancing shades,—
With timid coneys cropping the green blades.
IV
And there were crystal pools, peopled with fish,
Argent and gold; and some of Tyrian skin,
Some crimson-barr'd;—and ever at a wish
They rose obsequious till the wave grew thin
As glass upon their backs, and then dived in,
Quenching their ardent scales in watery gloom;
Whilst others with fresh hues row'd forth to win
My changeable regard,—for so we doom
Things born of thought to vanish or to bloom.
[...] Read more
poem by Thomas Hood
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Life Is A Lemon And I Want My Money Back
I want my money back
I want my money back
I want my money back
I want my money back
It's all or nothin'
And nothin's all I ever get,
Every time I turn it on I burn it up and burn it out
There's always something,
There's always something going wrong.
That's the only guarantee, that's what this is all about.
It's a never ending attack.
Everything's a lie and that's a fact.
Life is a lemon and I want my money back!
And all the morons,
and all the stooges with their coins,
Their the ones who make the rules, it's not a game it's just a rout
There's desperation, (there's desperation)
There's desperation in the air.
It leaves a stain on all your clothes and no detergent gets it out.
And we're always slippin' through the cracks.
Then the movie's over, fade to black.
Life is a lemon and I want my money back
What about love?
It's defective!
It's always breakin' in half.
What about sex?
It's defective!
It's never built to really last.
What about your family?
It's defective!
All the batteries are shot.
What about your friends?
Their defective!
All the parts are out of stock.
What about your god?
It's defective!
They forgot the warranty.
What about your town?
It's defective!
It's a dead end street to me.
What about your school?
It's defective!
It's a pack of useless lies.
What about your work?
It's defective!
It's a crock and then you die.
What about hope?
It's defective!
It's corroded and decayed.
What about faith?
[...] Read more
song performed by Meat Loaf
Added by Lucian Velea
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Silver City Bound
Lomax, ledbetter
Yeah...
This is a song... was sung by leadbelly and it was written for...his friend...
He had a friend named blind lemon...
And they used to ride back and forth on a train from somewhere to texas...
And I leraned this tune from a record
I heard by him
Silver city bound Im silver city bound
Im gonna tell my little baby Im silver city bound
Im gonna meet blind lemon gonna ride on down
Silver city bound Im silver city bound
Im gonna tell my little baby Im silver city bound
Im gonna meet blind lemon gonna ride on down
Take me by the hand oh babe
And lead me to the promises land
Take me by the hand oh babe
And lead me to the promised land
Silver city bound Im silver city bound
Im gonna tell my little baby Im silver city bound
Im gonna meet blind lemon gonna ride on down
Take me by the hand oh babe
And lead me to the promises land
Take me by the hand oh babe
And lead me to the promised land
Im silver city bound Im silver city bound
Im gonna tell my little baby Im silver city bound
Im gonna meet blind lemon gonna ride on down
Silver city bound Im silver city bound
Im gonna tell my little baby Im silver city bound
Im gonna meet blind lemon gonna ride on down
song performed by Nina Simone
Added by Lucian Velea
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