Citatepedia^®.com

Why Do You Want To Imitate Me?

do you like
that other half
of my
melon face?

don't you think
we both
are boring?

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Step On

Hes gonna step on you again, hes gonna step on you
Hes gonna step on you again, hes gonna step on you
Youre twistin my melon man, you know you talk so hip man
Youre twistin my melon man
Hey rainmaker, come away from that man
You know hes gonna take away your promised land
Hey good lady he just wants what you got you know
Hell never stop until hes taken the lot
(hey hey he hey hey)
Gonna stamp out your fire, he can change your desire
Dont you know he can make you forget youre a man
Gonna stamp out your fire, he can change your desire
Dont you know he can make you forget youre the man
Youre a man
Youre twistin my melon man, you speak so hip
Hey rainmaker he got golden plans I tell you
Youll make a stranger in your own land
Hey good lady hes got God on his side he got a double
Tongue you never think he would lie
(oh he lied, oooh hes twistin my melon man
(oh he lied, oooh hes twistin my melon man)
Gonna stamp out your fire, he can change your desire
Dont you know he can make you forget youre a man
Gonna stamp out your fire, he can change your desire
Dont you know he can make you forget youre the man
Youre the man
Hes gonna step on you again, hes gonna step on you
Hes gonna step on you again, hes gonna step on you
Hey rainmaker, come away from that man
You know hes gonna take away your promised land
Hey good lady hes got God on his side he got a double
Tongue you never think he would lie
Gonna stamp out your fire, he can change your desire
Dont you know he can make you forget youre a man
Gonna stamp out your fire, he can change your desire
Dont you know he can make you forget youre the man
Youre the man
Youre twistin my melon man, you know you talk so hip man
Youre twistin my melon man
(hey hey he hey hey)
Hes gonna step on you again, hes gonna step on you again
Hes gonna step on you again, hes gonna step on you again

song performed by Happy Mondays
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

I'm Boring

I like you and we get along great.
Like a little bit of pepper with salt for taste.
And I don't want you thinking I'm snooping just to peek,
But I got to use this minute quick to make sure this is it.
I'm boring,
Deeper into you I feel it needed.
I'm boring,
'Cause of possibilities I see.
I'm boring...
Way beyond the meeting of the greeting,
'Cause I see right now you are meant for me.

I'm boring,
Deeper into you I feel it needed.
I'm boring,
'Cause of possibilities I see.
I'm boring...
Way beyond the meeting of the greeting,
'Cause I see right now you are meant for me.

Deeper,
Are the questions of you that I ask.
Deeper,
Are your answers given back to me.
And deeper,
Into ourselves we get...
And this deepness makes us happy.

Deeper,
Are the questions of you that I ask.
Deeper,
Are your answers given back to me.
And deeper,
Into ourselves we get...
And this deepness makes us happy.

I'm boring,
Deeper into you I feel it needed.
I'm boring,
'Cause of possibilities I see.
I'm boring...
Way beyond the meeting of the greeting,
'Cause I see right now you are meant for me.

I like you and we get along great.
Like a little bit of pepper with salt for taste.

Deeper,
Are the questions of you that I ask.
Deeper,

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Face To Face

We never talk to one another
We just disagree
Im the one who runs for cover
And you turn your back on me
They say nothings gonna last forever
But some things are worth fighting for
Yeah, well love could bring us back together
But love dont come round here no more
The words unspoken in the night
Locked away in my heart
And Im feeling out of place
But if love is the key
Let it open the door
So well be standing -- face to face
You never want to see me face to face
Think it over
Face to face
If only it could be just face to face
Baby you and me
Face to face
I may be better off without it
I cant go on this way
Time has come to talk about it
This is our judgement day
You know we swore it would last forever
Always felt so sure it would
But its looking like now or never
Time to turn a bad thing into good
The words that echo in the night
Theyre fading away
And theyre gone without a trace
Now its up to you and me
Lets open the door
And meet each other -- face to face
Its time we saw each other face to face
To talk it over
Face to face
You know its gotta be just face to face
Baby you and me
Face to face
We gotta see each other -- face to face
And talk about it
Face to face
Hope it aint too late to meet face to face
Just you and me
(solo)
Face to face
Its time we saw each other face to face
To talk it over
Face to face

[...] Read more

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

Being Boring

(tennant/lowe)
---------------
I came across a cache of old photos
And invitations to teenage parties
Dress in white one said, with quotations
From someones wife, a famous writer
In the nineteen-twenties
When youre young you find inspiration
In anyone whos ever gone
And opened up a closing door
She said: we were never feeling bored
cause we were never being boring
We had too much time to find for ourselves
And we were never being boring
We dressed up and fought, then thought: make amends
And we were never holding back or worried that
Time would come to an end
When I went I left from the station
With a haversack and some trepidation
Someone said: if youre not careful
Youll have nothing left and nothing to care for
In the nineteen-seventies
But I sat back and looking forward
My shoes were high and I had scored
Id bolted through a closing door
I would never find myself feeling bored
cause we were never being boring
We had too much time to find for ourselves
And we were never being boring
We dressed up and fought, then thought: make amends
And we were never holding back or worried that
Time would come to an end
We were always hoping that, looking back
You could always rely on a friend
Now I sit with different faces
In rented rooms and foreign places
All the people I was kissing
Some are here and some are missing
In the nineteen-nineties
I never dreamt that I would get to be
The creature that I always meant to be
But I thought in spite of dreams
Youd be sitting somewhere here with me
cause we were never being boring
We had too much time to find for ourselves
And we were never being boring
We dressed up and fought, then thought: make amends
And we were never holding back or worried that
Time would come to an end
We were always hoping that, looking back

[...] Read more

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

Boring Lonely Day

What to do
On a boring lonely day?
How to have something to do
To keep the blues away?

I have got my papers sorted
And I am faced with a lonely boring day.
I cleaned my home yesterday.
From having a good and fun day,
I am thwarted.

The songs only make me sadder
I am having a boring lonely day.
All my games bore me now
Even when I win, it is a lonely boring day.

Having nothing to do
Makes for a boring lonely day.
And no one to do nothing with
That's the cause of the lonely boring day.

Now that I know the cause
Of my lonely boring days,
I can do something without pause
To cure my boring lonely days.

poem by Lonely People Champion
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Sixth Book

THE English have a scornful insular way
Of calling the French light. The levity
Is in the judgment only, which yet stands;
For say a foolish thing but oft enough,
(And here's the secret of a hundred creeds,–
Men get opinions as boys learn to spell,
By re-iteration chiefly) the same thing
Shall pass at least for absolutely wise,
And not with fools exclusively. And so,
We say the French are light, as if we said
The cat mews, or the milch-cow gives us milk:
Say rather, cats are milked, and milch cows mew,
For what is lightness but inconsequence,
Vague fluctuation 'twixt effect and cause,
Compelled by neither? Is a bullet light,
That dashes from the gun-mouth, while the eye
Winks, and the heart beats one, to flatten itself
To a wafer on the white speck on a wall
A hundred paces off? Even so direct,
So sternly undivertible of aim,
Is this French people.
All idealists
Too absolute and earnest, with them all
The idea of a knife cuts real flesh;
And still, devouring the safe interval
Which Nature placed between the thought and act,
They threaten conflagration to the world
And rush with most unscrupulous logic on
Impossible practice. Set your orators
To blow upon them with loud windy mouths
Through watchword phrases, jest or sentiment,
Which drive our burley brutal English mobs
Like so much chaff, whichever way they blow,–
This light French people will not thus be driven.
They turn indeed; but then they turn upon
Some central pivot of their thought and choice,
And veer out by the force of holding fast.
–That's hard to understand, for Englishmen
Unused to abstract questions, and untrained
To trace the involutions, valve by valve,
In each orbed bulb-root of a general truth,
And mark what subtly fine integument
Divides opposed compartments. Freedom's self
Comes concrete to us, to be understood,
Fixed in a feudal form incarnately
To suit our ways of thought and reverence,
The special form, with us, being still the thing.
With us, I say, though I'm of Italy
My mother's birth and grave, by father's grave
And memory; let it be,–a poet's heart

[...] Read more

poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Face To Face

Now I've got a chick who will be with me
Anytime, day or night
But I won't put up with no runnin' around
You know it just ain't right
I'm going down...
To the town -
Out to go drink with the clowns
You stay at home...
All alone -
And don't you talk on the phone
You're comin' face to face with the guy that's gonna knock you dead
Face to face with the guy that's gonna bust your head
I'm gonna knock you on the floor
You'll beg me for no more
You're comin' face to face with me, like it or not
When I got to town
The words going 'round
That you've been seen on your back
I open the door and you were on the floor
Spreadin' for the clowns in my pack
Now you were wrong...
If you thought -
I'd take it lyin' down like a dog
I put a match...
In her snatch
She thinks she's such a hot little vamp
You're comin' face to face with the guy that's gonna knock you dead
Face to face with the guy that's gonna bust your head
I'm gonna knock you on the floor
You'll beg me for no more
You comn' face to face with me, like it or not
Tear your face apart
Waste you in the dark
Rip you like a shark
Won't think you're so smart
Face to face (face to face) you disgrace
Face to face (face to face) you disgrace
Face to face (face to face) you disgrace
Face to face
Face to face
Face to face with the guy that's gonna knock you dead
Your're comin' face to face with the guy that's gonna bust your head
I'm gonna knock you on the floor
You'll beg me for no more
You're comin' face to face with me, like it or not
You're cominc12

song performed by Quiet Riot
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Give Your Heart To The Hawks

1 he apples hung until a wind at the equinox,

That heaped the beach with black weed, filled the dry grass

Under the old trees with rosy fruit.

In the morning Fayne Fraser gathered the sound ones into a

basket,

The bruised ones into a pan. One place they lay so thickly
She knelt to reach them.

Her husband's brother passing
Along the broken fence of the stubble-field,
His quick brown eyes took in one moving glance
A little gopher-snake at his feet flowing through the stubble
To gain the fence, and Fayne crouched after apples
With her mop of red hair like a glowing coal
Against the shadow in the garden. The small shapely reptile
Flowed into a thicket of dead thistle-stalks
Around a fence-post, but its tail was not hidden.
The young man drew it all out, and as the coil
Whipped over his wrist, smiled at it; he stepped carefully
Across the sag of the wire. When Fayne looked up
His hand was hidden; she looked over her shoulder
And twitched her sunburnt lips from small white teeth
To answer the spark of malice in his eyes, but turned
To the apples, intent again. Michael looked down
At her white neck, rarely touched by the sun,
But now the cinnabar-colored hair fell off from it;
And her shoulders in the light-blue shirt, and long legs like a boy's
Bare-ankled in blue-jean trousers, the country wear;
He stooped quietly and slipped the small cool snake
Up the blue-denim leg. Fayne screamed and writhed,
Clutching her thigh. 'Michael, you beast.' She stood up
And stroked her leg, with little sharp cries, the slender invader
Fell down her ankle.

Fayne snatched for it and missed;

Michael stood by rejoicing, his rather small

Finely cut features in a dance of delight;

Fayne with one sweep flung at his face

All the bruised and half-spoiled apples in the pan,

[...] Read more

poem by Robinson Jeffers
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Lancelot And Elaine

Elaine the fair, Elaine the loveable,
Elaine, the lily maid of Astolat,
High in her chamber up a tower to the east
Guarded the sacred shield of Lancelot;
Which first she placed where the morning's earliest ray
Might strike it, and awake her with the gleam;
Then fearing rust or soilure fashioned for it
A case of silk, and braided thereupon
All the devices blazoned on the shield
In their own tinct, and added, of her wit,
A border fantasy of branch and flower,
And yellow-throated nestling in the nest.
Nor rested thus content, but day by day,
Leaving her household and good father, climbed
That eastern tower, and entering barred her door,
Stript off the case, and read the naked shield,
Now guessed a hidden meaning in his arms,
Now made a pretty history to herself
Of every dint a sword had beaten in it,
And every scratch a lance had made upon it,
Conjecturing when and where: this cut is fresh;
That ten years back; this dealt him at Caerlyle;
That at Caerleon; this at Camelot:
And ah God's mercy, what a stroke was there!
And here a thrust that might have killed, but God
Broke the strong lance, and rolled his enemy down,
And saved him: so she lived in fantasy.

How came the lily maid by that good shield
Of Lancelot, she that knew not even his name?
He left it with her, when he rode to tilt
For the great diamond in the diamond jousts,
Which Arthur had ordained, and by that name
Had named them, since a diamond was the prize.

For Arthur, long before they crowned him King,
Roving the trackless realms of Lyonnesse,
Had found a glen, gray boulder and black tarn.
A horror lived about the tarn, and clave
Like its own mists to all the mountain side:
For here two brothers, one a king, had met
And fought together; but their names were lost;
And each had slain his brother at a blow;
And down they fell and made the glen abhorred:
And there they lay till all their bones were bleached,
And lichened into colour with the crags:
And he, that once was king, had on a crown
Of diamonds, one in front, and four aside.
And Arthur came, and labouring up the pass,
All in a misty moonshine, unawares

[...] Read more

poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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!

Santa Claus in the Bush

It chanced out back at the Christmas time,
When the wheat was ripe and tall,
A stranger rode to the farmer's gate --
A sturdy man and a small.
"Rin doon, rin doon, my little son Jack,
And bid the stranger stay;
And we'll hae a crack for Auld Lang Syne,
For the morn is Christmas Day."

"Nay noo, nay noo," said the dour guidwife,
"But ye should let him be;
He's maybe only a drover chap
Frae the land o' the Darling Pea.

"Wi' a drover's tales, and a drover's thirst
To swiggle the hail nicht through;
Or he's maybe a life assurance carle
To talk ye black and blue,"

"Guidwife, he's never a drover chap,
For their swags are neat and thin;
And he's never a life assurance carle,
Wi' the brick-dust burnt in his skin.

"Guidwife, guidwife, be nae sae dour,
For the wheat stands ripe and tall,
And we shore a seven-pound fleece this year,
Ewes and weaners and all.

"There is grass tae spare, and the stock are fat.
Where they whiles are gaunt and thin,
And we owe a tithe to the travelling poor,
So we maun ask him in.

"Ye can set him a chair tae the table side,
And gi' him a bite tae eat;
An omelette made of a new-laid egg,
Or a tasty bit of meat."

"But the native cats have taen the fowls,
They havena left a leg;
And he'll get nae omelette at a'
Till the emu lays an egg!"

"Rin doon, rin doon, my little son Jack,
To whaur the emus bide,
Ye shall find the auld hen on the nest,
While the auld cock sits beside.

"But speak them fair, and speak them saft,

[...] Read more

poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

I heard thy verses

I heard thy verses amidst thine aubergine,
text lines thank thine Italian fettuccini,
tho' slightly thy melon guiled my arccosine.

Thy bare feet on grapes dance for wine,
Bound to thee my greed for baked panini,
I heard thy verses amidst thine aubergine.

Thy radish desire - in veins is flow malign,
dance fayre amid spud and fresh zucchini,
tho' slightly thy melon guiled my arccosine.

Thy casseroles enjoy thee, as I be on line,
dare to kisse thy big toe- al dente linguini,
I heard thy verses amidst thine aubergine.

Oh, fayre maiden thy kisse doe not decline,
Thy coles 'n' lettuce I love, wear a beanie,
tho' slightly thy melon guiled my arccosine.

Thou doe not cook bacon wearing a bikini,
thy squash embrac'd art, e'er to enshrine.
I heard thy verses amidst thine aubergine.
tho' slightly thy melon guiled my arccosine

poem by Giorgio Veneto
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Taming The Tiger

I stepped outside to breathe the air
And stare up at the stars
Big dipper hanging there
Over the rented car
Over the rented car
Im a runaway from the record biz
From the hoods in the hood and the whiny white kids
Boring!
The old man is snoring
And Im taming the tiger
(you cant tame the tiger)
Tiger, tiger burning bright
Nice, kitty kitty
Tiger, tiger burning bright
Sophia says its hard to catch
And harder still to ride
The time to watch the beast the best
Is when its purring at your side
Purring at your side
Accolades and honors
One false move and youre a goner
Boring!
The old man is snoring
And Im taming the tiger
(you cant tame the tiger)
Tiger, tiger burning bright
Nice, kitty kitty
Tiger, tiger burning bright
In the forest of the night
The moon shed light
On my hopeless plight
As the radio blared so bland
Every disc, a poker chip
Every song just a one night stand
Formula music, girly guile
Genuine junkfood for juveniles
Up and down the dial
Mercenary style
I watched the stars chuck down their spears
And a plane went blinking by
And I thought of anna
Wild and dear
Like fireworks in the sky
Fireworks in the sky
Im so sick of this game
Its hip, its hot
Lifes too short, the whole things gotten
Boring!
The old man is snoring
And Im taming the tiger

[...] Read more

song performed by Joni Mitchell
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Face Up Face Down

Welcome all my honored guests
To the utimate duel of the best of the best
At my invitation you come to compete
For the honor of suffering the final defeat
Isn't it grand what I've managed to do
By kidnapping those closest to you
I've taken their souls to lay on the line
In a winner take all duel for all time
Let's play the game
I'm sure you all know how
But watch yourselves my foolish friends
You're all in my world now
Face up, Face down. Attack or Defend
Face up, Face down. This battle's to the end
Face up, Face down. Stay on guard
Face up, Face down. Play your strongest card
My arena waits us all
I built it myself, it is just down the hall
I wish this day hadn't come so fast
You see I truly wanted your pain to last
Face up, Face down. Attack or Defend
Face up, Face down. This battle's to the end
Face up, Face down. Stay on guard
Face up, Face down. Play your strongest card
All your cunning strategies, all the tricks you try
Look like merely child's play to my Millennium Eye
Ha, ha, ha, ha! Your turn Yugi-boy
What's wrong now you look so sad?
Losing your soul doesn't feel that bad
Those you love have told me so
And soon my friends, you too will know
Let's play the game
I'm sure you all know how
But watch yourselves my foolish friends
You're all in my world now
Face up, Face down. Attack or Defend
Face up, Face down. This battle's to the end
Face up, Face down. Stay on guard
Face up, Face down. Play your strongest card
Face up, Face down. Attack or Defend
Face up, Face down. This battle's to the end
Face up, Face down. Stay on guard
Face up, Face down. Play your strongest card

song performed by Yu-Gi-Oh
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Face To Face

Key:-
A - anita
R - ray
A: face to face and eye to eye
Face to face and eye to eye
Face to face and eye to eye
Face to face and eye to eye
R: leaves from the tree, fall down on the floor
Life comes and goes, you cant ignore
Touch your soul when you finally realize
Youve heard it all before all the lies
Youre on a mission, no time for wishing
It can be magic, like a magician
Face to face and eye to eye
This is your last and final try
A: face to face and eye to eye
We look the world right in the eye
Face to face and eye to eye
Youve one last chance and baby, so will i
R: will we all succeed or is it over soon?
Nobody around just stars and the moon
A race against the clock, is there some time?
Just wait for the light, wait for the sign
You made the same mistakes that you made in the past
Didnt help you out, didnt make you last
Face to face and eye to eye
This was your last and final try
A: face to face and eye to eye
We look the world right in the eye
Face to face and eye to eye
Youve one last chance and baby, so have i
R: face to face and eye to eye
This is you last and final try
A: face to face and eye to eye
We look the world right in the eye
Face to face and eye to eye
Youve one last chance and baby, so will i
A: face to face and eye to eye
We look the world right in the eye
Face to face and eye to eye
Youve one last chance and baby, so have i

song performed by 2 Unlimited
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Race

Lie down, [fair 1//pheromone], and come away
Till the rain is over and gone
G-g-gimme the beat now (face the music)
Lead line (face the music)
If the air is a little thick in this room 2nite
I reckon its the result of an onslaught of separatist rookies
Overcome by this colorful sight
Talkin so fast that even they
Talkin so fast that even they
Dont know what they mean
Of all the things that base a rhyme
How is it that u everytime
Regurgitate the racist lines that keep us apart?
Thank God this aint monopoly
Ud make us all go back 2 start
Race
In the space I mark human (face the music)
Race
Face the music
We all bones when we dead
Race
In the space I mark human (face the music)
Cut me, cut u
Both the blood is red
I gotcha
Race
Race
Check it
Three seats over theres a lady black
Entrusted 2 her care is a little white girl
And the fact of the matter is
Before her momma or another kid at school
Tells her about the fallacy that 1 race rules over the other
Shed be a much-better-off-left fool (face the music)
If we never heard about the evils that those before us committed
Then how my dear, tell me now how my dear, tell me now how now would we know
And then the band say
Race
In the space I mark human (face the music)
Race
Face the music
We all bones when we dead
Race
In the space I mark human (face the music)
Cut me, cut u
Both the blood is red
I gotcha
Race
Race
(face the music)

[...] Read more

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

Faces

SAUNTERING the pavement, or riding the country by-road--lo! such
faces!
Faces of friendship, precision, caution, suavity, ideality;
The spiritual, prescient face--the always welcome, common, benevolent
face,
The face of the singing of music--the grand faces of natural lawyers
and judges, broad at the back-top;
The faces of hunters and fishers, bulged at the brows--the shaved
blanch'd faces of orthodox citizens;
The pure, extravagant, yearning, questioning artist's face;
The ugly face of some beautiful Soul, the handsome detested or
despised face;
The sacred faces of infants, the illuminated face of the mother of
many children;
The face of an amour, the face of veneration;
The face as of a dream, the face of an immobile rock; 10
The face withdrawn of its good and bad, a castrated face;
A wild hawk, his wings clipp'd by the clipper;
A stallion that yielded at last to the thongs and knife of the
gelder.

Sauntering the pavement, thus, or crossing the ceaseless ferry,
faces, and faces, and faces:
I see them, and complain not, and am content with all.

Do you suppose I could be content with all, if I thought them their
own finale?

This now is too lamentable a face for a man;
Some abject louse, asking leave to be--cringing for it;
Some milk-nosed maggot, blessing what lets it wrig to its hole.

This face is a dog's snout, sniffing for garbage; 20
Snakes nest in that mouth--I hear the sibilant threat.

This face is a haze more chill than the arctic sea;
Its sleepy and wobbling icebergs crunch as they go.

This is a face of bitter herbs--this an emetic--they need no label;
And more of the drug-shelf, laudanum, caoutchouc, or hog's-lard.

This face is an epilepsy, its wordless tongue gives out the unearthly
cry,
Its veins down the neck distended, its eyes roll till they show
nothing but their whites,
Its teeth grit, the palms of the hands are cut by the turn'd-in
nails,
The man falls struggling and foaming to the ground while he
speculates well.

[...] Read more

poem by Walt Whitman
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Thurso’s Landing

I
The coast-road was being straightened and repaired again,
A group of men labored at the steep curve
Where it falls from the north to Mill Creek. They scattered and hid
Behind cut banks, except one blond young man
Who stooped over the rock and strolled away smiling
As if he shared a secret joke with the dynamite;
It waited until he had passed back of a boulder,
Then split its rock cage; a yellowish torrent
Of fragments rose up the air and the echoes bumped
From mountain to mountain. The men returned slowly
And took up their dropped tools, while a banner of dust
Waved over the gorge on the northwest wind, very high
Above the heads of the forest.
Some distance west of the road,
On the promontory above the triangle
Of glittering ocean that fills the gorge-mouth,
A woman and a lame man from the farm below
Had been watching, and turned to go down the hill. The young
woman looked back,
Widening her violet eyes under the shade of her hand. 'I think
they'll blast again in a minute.'
And the man: 'I wish they'd let the poor old road be. I don't
like improvements.' 'Why not?' 'They bring in the world;
We're well without it.' His lameness gave him some look of age
but he was young too; tall and thin-faced,
With a high wavering nose. 'Isn't he amusing,' she said, 'that
boy Rick Armstrong, the dynamite man,
How slowly he walks away after he lights the fuse. He loves to
show off. Reave likes him, too,'
She added; and they clambered down the path in the rock-face,
little dark specks
Between the great headland rock and the bright blue sea.

II
The road-workers had made their camp
North of this headland, where the sea-cliff was broken down and
sloped to a cove. The violet-eyed woman's husband,
Reave Thurso, rode down the slope to the camp in the gorgeous
autumn sundown, his hired man Johnny Luna
Riding behind him. The road-men had just quit work and four
or five were bathing in the purple surf-edge,
The others talked by the tents; blue smoke fragrant with food
and oak-wood drifted from the cabin stove-pipe
And slowly went fainting up the vast hill.
Thurso drew rein by
a group of men at a tent door
And frowned at them without speaking, square-shouldered and
heavy-jawed, too heavy with strength for so young a man,
He chose one of the men with his eyes. 'You're Danny Woodruff,

[...] Read more

poem by Robinson Jeffers
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Bordom

Sitting
Nothing
No sound
Not even the dog in the back
Then a song comes up
Same ol song
Never ending
I just keep pushing play
Thinking
What will tomarrow be like
Nothing
Same ol life
Same ol thing
Nothing changing
Not even the song
Not the dog barking
Not the creaks and cracks of the haunted floor
Not the feel of someone watching
Not the wish of something else
Nothing changeing ever
I guess nothing silent
Just every same thing
Boring
Im lost in bordom
Ready lets push play

dododo

Same ol song
Nothing changeing
Everything the same
Boring life
No Change
Rarely ever
Boring life
click clack
same ol anoying keyboard
Sound coming barely over that boring song
Does anything change
Or is life ment to be Boring
Dull
Nothing life
Was that a sound?
Phone ring?
Some one home?
Or is the nothing boring life getting to me?
Am I going insane?
Still no change
Nothing at all
Push play again

[...] Read more

poem by Jessie Li here
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Tannhauser

The Landgrave Hermann held a gathering
Of minstrels, minnesingers, troubadours,
At Wartburg in his palace, and the knight,
Sir Tannhauser of France, the greatest bard,
Inspired with heavenly visions, and endowed
With apprehension and rare utterance
Of noble music, fared in thoughtful wise
Across the Horsel meadows. Full of light,
And large repose, the peaceful valley lay,
In the late splendor of the afternoon,
And level sunbeams lit the serious face
Of the young knight, who journeyed to the west,
Towards the precipitous and rugged cliffs,
Scarred, grim, and torn with savage rifts and chasms,
That in the distance loomed as soft and fair
And purple as their shadows on the grass.
The tinkling chimes ran out athwart the air,
Proclaiming sunset, ushering evening in,
Although the sky yet glowed with yellow light.
The ploughboy, ere he led his cattle home,
In the near meadow, reverently knelt,
And doffed his cap, and duly crossed his breast,
Whispering his 'Ave Mary,' as he heard
The pealing vesper-bell. But still the knight,
Unmindful of the sacred hour announced,
Disdainful or unconscious, held his course.
'Would that I also, like yon stupid wight,
Could kneel and hail the Virgin and believe!'
He murmured bitterly beneath his breath.
'Were I a pagan, riding to contend
For the Olympic wreath, O with what zeal,
What fire of inspiration, would I sing
The praises of the gods! How may my lyre
Glorify these whose very life I doubt?
The world is governed by one cruel God,
Who brings a sword, not peace. A pallid Christ,
Unnatural, perfect, and a virgin cold,
They give us for a heaven of living gods,
Beautiful, loving, whose mere names were song;
A creed of suffering and despair, walled in
On every side by brazen boundaries,
That limit the soul's vision and her hope
To a red hell or and unpeopled heaven.
Yea, I am lost already,-even now
Am doomed to flaming torture for my thoughts.
O gods! O gods! where shall my soul find peace?'
He raised his wan face to the faded skies,
Now shadowing into twilight; no response
Came from their sunless heights; no miracle,
As in the ancient days of answering gods.

[...] Read more

poem by Emma Lazarus
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!