I Just Cut the Grass
I just cut the grass, and
the cat is checking out my work.
She’s critical, but helps out,
grazing contentedly on
sprigs of errant chaff
that I missed in my hurry
to finish. Clouds are gathering
on this cold, Holy Saturday.
Now I tarry in my webbed chair,
to sip a cold bottle of beer,
and wonder how green
the world has grown.
Knock-out roses pop
(their vermillion tips shout
in the more common green of fern and ivy)
and red cherries fill the green cherry-tree.
Soon from shattered shells
new birds will rise
as mockingbirds fly
to fill shrill beaks
with cherries.
poem by Steven Federle
Added by Poetry Lover
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poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Luggage Canada
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[...] Read more
poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Cameron
Cameron the cat would never miss a trick –
Often in the garden on patrol.
Otherwise sleeping, though frequently meeting
His one and only love – that earthen bowl!
Cameron the cat took everything for granted -
Sure, the street lay under his control.
Contentedly snoozing – perhaps he 'd been boozing –
And toasting all that counts: his dearest bowl!
Cameron the cat would seek to take advantage –
His gullible owners often on parole.
Purring pathetically, and almost poetically,
He'd meow them into stacking up his bowl!
Cameron the cat was nonetheless a gem –
His owners saw him as their heart and soul,
But having to accept that he was so adept
At persuading them to fill his flipping bowl!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
[...] Read more
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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The Holy Grail
From noiseful arms, and acts of prowess done
In tournament or tilt, Sir Percivale,
Whom Arthur and his knighthood called The Pure,
Had passed into the silent life of prayer,
Praise, fast, and alms; and leaving for the cowl
The helmet in an abbey far away
From Camelot, there, and not long after, died.
And one, a fellow-monk among the rest,
Ambrosius, loved him much beyond the rest,
And honoured him, and wrought into his heart
A way by love that wakened love within,
To answer that which came: and as they sat
Beneath a world-old yew-tree, darkening half
The cloisters, on a gustful April morn
That puffed the swaying branches into smoke
Above them, ere the summer when he died
The monk Ambrosius questioned Percivale:
`O brother, I have seen this yew-tree smoke,
Spring after spring, for half a hundred years:
For never have I known the world without,
Nor ever strayed beyond the pale: but thee,
When first thou camest--such a courtesy
Spake through the limbs and in the voice--I knew
For one of those who eat in Arthur's hall;
For good ye are and bad, and like to coins,
Some true, some light, but every one of you
Stamped with the image of the King; and now
Tell me, what drove thee from the Table Round,
My brother? was it earthly passion crost?'
`Nay,' said the knight; `for no such passion mine.
But the sweet vision of the Holy Grail
Drove me from all vainglories, rivalries,
And earthly heats that spring and sparkle out
Among us in the jousts, while women watch
Who wins, who falls; and waste the spiritual strength
Within us, better offered up to Heaven.'
To whom the monk: `The Holy Grail!--I trust
We are green in Heaven's eyes; but here too much
We moulder--as to things without I mean--
Yet one of your own knights, a guest of ours,
Told us of this in our refectory,
But spake with such a sadness and so low
We heard not half of what he said. What is it?
The phantom of a cup that comes and goes?'
`Nay, monk! what phantom?' answered Percivale.
[...] Read more
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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On More Saturday Night
One More Saturday Night
-----------------------
I went down to the mountain, I was drinkin' some wine,
looked up in the heavens Lord I saw a mighty sign,
written in fire across the heavens, plain as black and white;
Get prepared, there's gonna be a party tonight.
Uhuh, Hey! Saturday Night!
Yeh, uhuh one more Saturday night,
Hey saturday night !
Everybody's dancin' down the local armory
with a basement full of dynamite and light artillery.
The temperature keeps risin', everybody gittin' high;
come the rockin' stroke of midnite, the place is gonna fly.
Uhuh, Hey! Saturday Night!
Yeh, uhuh one more Saturday night,
Hey saturday night !
Turn on channel six, the President comes on the news,
says "I get no satisfaction, that's why I sing the blues."
These wives, they don't get crazy, Lord, they know just what to do,
crank up that old Victrola, put on them rockin' shoes.
Uhuh, Hey! Saturday Night!
Yeh, uhuh one more Saturday night,
Hey saturday night !
When God way up in Heaven, for whatever it was worth,
thought He'd have a big old party, thought He'd call it planet Earth.
Don't worry about tomorrow, Lord, you'll know it when it comes,
when the rock and roll music meets the risin' shinin' sun.
Uhuh, Hey! Saturday Night!
Yeh, uhuh one more Saturday night,
Hey saturday night !
Hey another Saturday night,
Hey another Saturday night,
Everybody gettin' right,
Hey another Saturday night,
One more saturday, one more Saturday night,
Hey another Saturday night,
Hey another Saturday night,
Hey another Saturday night,
One more saturday, one more saturday night.
Hey another Saturday night,
Hey another Saturday night,
Hey another Saturday night,
One more saturday, one more saturday night
song performed by Grateful Dead
Added by Lucian Velea
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Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau, Saviour of Society
Epigraph
Υδραν φονεύσας, μυρίων τ᾽ ἄλλων πόνων
διῆλθον ἀγέλας . . .
τὸ λοίσθιον δὲ τόνδ᾽ ἔτλην τάλας πόνον,
. . . δῶμα θριγκῶσαι κακοῖς.
I slew the Hydra, and from labour pass'd
To labour — tribes of labours! Till, at last,
Attempting one more labour, in a trice,
Alack, with ills I crowned the edifice.
You have seen better days, dear? So have I —
And worse too, for they brought no such bud-mouth
As yours to lisp "You wish you knew me!" Well,
Wise men, 't is said, have sometimes wished the same,
And wished and had their trouble for their pains.
Suppose my Œdipus should lurk at last
Under a pork-pie hat and crinoline,
And, latish, pounce on Sphynx in Leicester Square?
Or likelier, what if Sphynx in wise old age,
Grown sick of snapping foolish people's heads,
And jealous for her riddle's proper rede, —
Jealous that the good trick which served the turn
Have justice rendered it, nor class one day
With friend Home's stilts and tongs and medium-ware,—
What if the once redoubted Sphynx, I say,
(Because night draws on, and the sands increase,
And desert-whispers grow a prophecy)
Tell all to Corinth of her own accord.
Bright Corinth, not dull Thebes, for Lais' sake,
Who finds me hardly grey, and likes my nose,
And thinks a man of sixty at the prime?
Good! It shall be! Revealment of myself!
But listen, for we must co-operate;
I don't drink tea: permit me the cigar!
First, how to make the matter plain, of course —
What was the law by which I lived. Let 's see:
Ay, we must take one instant of my life
Spent sitting by your side in this neat room:
Watch well the way I use it, and don't laugh!
Here's paper on the table, pen and ink:
Give me the soiled bit — not the pretty rose!
See! having sat an hour, I'm rested now,
Therefore want work: and spy no better work
For eye and hand and mind that guides them both,
During this instant, than to draw my pen
From blot One — thus — up, up to blot Two — thus —
Which I at last reach, thus, and here's my line
Five inches long and tolerably straight:
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning (1871)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Saturday Night's Alright
It's getting late have you seen my mates,
It's getting late have you seen my mates,
Go on and tell me when the boys get here.
Go on and tell me when the boys get here.
It's seven o'clock and I want to rock,
It's seven o'clock and i want to rock,
Want to get a belly full of beer.
Want to get a belly full of beer.
My old man's drunker than a barrel full of monkeys
My old man's drunker than a barrel full of monkeys
And my old lady she don't care
And my old lady she don't care
My sister looks cute in her braces and boots with a handful of grease in her hair.
My sister looks cute in her braces and boots with a handful of grease in her hair.
Hey... Don't give us none of your aggravation,
Hey... don't give us none of your aggravation,
We've had it with your discipline.
We've had it with your discipline.
Saturday Night's Alright for Fighting, get a little action in.
Saturday night's alright for fighting, get a little action in.
I get about as oiled as a diesel train, gonna set this dance alight.
I get about as oiled as a diesel train, gonna set this dance alight.
Cause' Saturday Night's the night I like,
Cause' saturday night's the night i like,
Saturday Nights Alright..
Saturday nights alright..
Alright, Alright!
Alright, alright!
Well, we're packed pretty tight in here tonight and I'm looking for a dolly who'll see me right.
Well, we're packed pretty tight in here tonight and i'm looking for a dolly who'll see me right.
I may use a little muscle to get what I need, and sink a little drink and shout out, 'She's with me!'.
I may use a little muscle to get what i need, and sink a little drink and shout out, "she's with me!".
A couple of the sounds that I really like are the sound of a switchblade and a motorbike.
A couple of the sounds that i really like are the sound of a switchblade and a motorbike.
I'm a juvenile product of the working class, who's best friend floats in the bottom of a glass.
I'm a juvenile product of the working class, who's best friend floats in the bottom of a glass.
Don't give us none of your aggravation, we've had it with your discipline.
Don't give us none of your aggravation, we've had it with your discipline.
Saturday Night's Alright for fighting, to get a little action in.
Saturday night's alright for fighting, to get a little action in.
I get about as oiled as a diesel train, gonna set this dance alight.
I get about as oiled as a diesel train, gonna set this dance alight.
Cause Saturday Night's the night I like,
Cause saturday night's the night i like,
Saturday Night's Alright...
Saturday night's alright...
Alright, Alright!
Alright, alright!
Chorus: Saturday, Saturday, Saturday!........
Chorus: saturday, saturday, saturday!........
[...] Read more
song performed by Who
Added by Lucian Velea
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XI. Guido
You are the Cardinal Acciaiuoli, and you,
Abate Panciatichi—two good Tuscan names:
Acciaiuoli—ah, your ancestor it was
Built the huge battlemented convent-block
Over the little forky flashing Greve
That takes the quick turn at the foot o' the hill
Just as one first sees Florence: oh those days!
'T is Ema, though, the other rivulet,
The one-arched brown brick bridge yawns over,—yes,
Gallop and go five minutes, and you gain
The Roman Gate from where the Ema's bridged:
Kingfishers fly there: how I see the bend
O'erturreted by Certosa which he built,
That Senescal (we styled him) of your House!
I do adjure you, help me, Sirs! My blood
Comes from as far a source: ought it to end
This way, by leakage through their scaffold-planks
Into Rome's sink where her red refuse runs?
Sirs, I beseech you by blood-sympathy,
If there be any vile experiment
In the air,—if this your visit simply prove,
When all's done, just a well-intentioned trick,
That tries for truth truer than truth itself,
By startling up a man, ere break of day,
To tell him he must die at sunset,—pshaw!
That man's a Franceschini; feel his pulse,
Laugh at your folly, and let's all go sleep!
You have my last word,—innocent am I
As Innocent my Pope and murderer,
Innocent as a babe, as Mary's own,
As Mary's self,—I said, say and repeat,—
And why, then, should I die twelve hours hence? I—
Whom, not twelve hours ago, the gaoler bade
Turn to my straw-truss, settle and sleep sound
That I might wake the sooner, promptlier pay
His due of meat-and-drink-indulgence, cross
His palm with fee of the good-hand, beside,
As gallants use who go at large again!
For why? All honest Rome approved my part;
Whoever owned wife, sister, daughter,—nay,
Mistress,—had any shadow of any right
That looks like right, and, all the more resolved,
Held it with tooth and nail,—these manly men
Approved! I being for Rome, Rome was for me.
Then, there's the point reserved, the subterfuge
My lawyers held by, kept for last resource,
Firm should all else,—the impossible fancy!—fail,
And sneaking burgess-spirit win the day.
The knaves! One plea at least would hold,—they laughed,—
One grappling-iron scratch the bottom-rock
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Book VI - Part 02 - Great Meteorological Phenomena, Etc
And so in first place, then
With thunder are shaken the blue deeps of heaven,
Because the ethereal clouds, scudding aloft,
Together clash, what time 'gainst one another
The winds are battling. For never a sound there come
From out the serene regions of the sky;
But wheresoever in a host more dense
The clouds foregather, thence more often comes
A crash with mighty rumbling. And, again,
Clouds cannot be of so condensed a frame
As stones and timbers, nor again so fine
As mists and flying smoke; for then perforce
They'd either fall, borne down by their brute weight,
Like stones, or, like the smoke, they'd powerless be
To keep their mass, or to retain within
Frore snows and storms of hail. And they give forth
O'er skiey levels of the spreading world
A sound on high, as linen-awning, stretched
O'er mighty theatres, gives forth at times
A cracking roar, when much 'tis beaten about
Betwixt the poles and cross-beams. Sometimes, too,
Asunder rent by wanton gusts, it raves
And imitates the tearing sound of sheets
Of paper- even this kind of noise thou mayst
In thunder hear- or sound as when winds whirl
With lashings and do buffet about in air
A hanging cloth and flying paper-sheets.
For sometimes, too, it chances that the clouds
Cannot together crash head-on, but rather
Move side-wise and with motions contrary
Graze each the other's body without speed,
From whence that dry sound grateth on our ears,
So long drawn-out, until the clouds have passed
From out their close positions.
And, again,
In following wise all things seem oft to quake
At shock of heavy thunder, and mightiest walls
Of the wide reaches of the upper world
There on the instant to have sprung apart,
Riven asunder, what time a gathered blast
Of the fierce hurricane hath all at once
Twisted its way into a mass of clouds,
And, there enclosed, ever more and more
Compelleth by its spinning whirl the cloud
To grow all hollow with a thickened crust
Surrounding; for thereafter, when the force
And the keen onset of the wind have weakened
That crust, lo, then the cloud, to-split in twain,
Gives forth a hideous crash with bang and boom.
No marvel this; since oft a bladder small,
[...] Read more
poem by Lucretius
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Go Cut Creator Go
[LL Cool J]
1, 2, 3 'o' clock 4 'o' clock ROCK
5, 6, 7 'o' clock 8 'o' clock ROCK
9, 10, 11 'o' clock 12 'o' clock ROCK
Gonna ROCK (What?) ROCK, ROCK around the clock
Three years ago in St. Albans, Queens
I was rockin at a park called one eighteen
Little kids stood and watched as I rocked the spot
Didn't know that years later I'll be standin on top
Livin near Farmers Boulevard I was born and base-shaw
Stopped the rich and shaked hands with the poor
And this is a story about a brother I know
Cut Creator on the fader no watch him go
[Chorus]
Go, go Cut Creator Go
Go Cut Creator Go
Go Cut Creator Go
Go Cut Creator Go
Go, go Cut Creator Go
Go Cut Creator Go
Go Cut Creator Go
Go Cut Creator Go
[LL Cool J]
When back in the days before I clocked some dough
I used to go to the show and sit in the front row
Hopin and prayin one day I'll get on the road
So I had a feeler and a summer and I meet when I'm stoned
Not fearin a thought, got stung like a horse
Don't make fun of my posse, cause each man is a boss
When his only damn way to pull a jam out the crate
One time for your mind
Check out the guitar break
[Chorus]
Go, go Cut Creator Go
Go Cut Creator Go
Go Cut Creator Go
Go Cut Creator Go
Go, go Cut Creator Go
Go Cut Creator Go
Go Cut Creator Go
Go Cut Creator Go
[LL Cool J]
This jam just wasn't enough for Jimmy Hendrix to see
He could do lessons of mixin take you under his wing
Straight from the heart cause it ain't the money that we came here for
Ain't no thoughts in the room ain't breakin no roles
And in the Rock 'n' Roll land, a big strivin plan
Just my posse learn the vocals what little they had
It's all about us three: Eve, Phil & Jay
He heard Cut Creator cut now check it out to play
[...] Read more
song performed by LL Cool J
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Ballad of the White Horse
DEDICATION
Of great limbs gone to chaos,
A great face turned to night--
Why bend above a shapeless shroud
Seeking in such archaic cloud
Sight of strong lords and light?
Where seven sunken Englands
Lie buried one by one,
Why should one idle spade, I wonder,
Shake up the dust of thanes like thunder
To smoke and choke the sun?
In cloud of clay so cast to heaven
What shape shall man discern?
These lords may light the mystery
Of mastery or victory,
And these ride high in history,
But these shall not return.
Gored on the Norman gonfalon
The Golden Dragon died:
We shall not wake with ballad strings
The good time of the smaller things,
We shall not see the holy kings
Ride down by Severn side.
Stiff, strange, and quaintly coloured
As the broidery of Bayeux
The England of that dawn remains,
And this of Alfred and the Danes
Seems like the tales a whole tribe feigns
Too English to be true.
Of a good king on an island
That ruled once on a time;
And as he walked by an apple tree
There came green devils out of the sea
With sea-plants trailing heavily
And tracks of opal slime.
Yet Alfred is no fairy tale;
His days as our days ran,
He also looked forth for an hour
On peopled plains and skies that lower,
From those few windows in the tower
That is the head of a man.
But who shall look from Alfred's hood
[...] Read more
poem by Gilbert Keith Chesterton
Added by Poetry Lover
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Condition Critical
Oh the tension's mounting
The pressure starts to show
All the men in haunting
Please don't let me go
(Don't go)
Try to free my body
(Don't go)
Try to strap me down
(Don't go)
These'll never break me
(Don't go)
Free wheel to look at me
Condition critical
I'm feeling physical
Condition critical
Now I'm really cynical
The bells they are ringing
Or is it in my head
My nerves numb understanding
I'm falling out of bed
(Don't go)
So call it paranoia
(Don't go)
I don't see it that way
(Let's go)
You say I adore ya
(Hell no)
We're gonna rock they way
Condition critical
I'm feeling physical
Condition critical
Now I'm really cynical
Ooh ooh
Whips and chains
Don't feel no pain
What's so wrong
I think I'm going out of my head
Over heels
I can't feel
No pain, only pleasure
Get me out
Take me home
Can't you see my condition
Woo-woo-woo
Condition
Condition
Condition critical, critical
Condition
Condition
Condition critical
[...] Read more
song performed by Quiet Riot
Added by Lucian Velea
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On A Saturday Night
Mama said, she said it's gonna be alright
Yes she did, well come to bed and turn out the light
She's sleeping there, she's dreaming through her life
Yes she is
Well you know you've done no wrong
All you done is sing this song
You sing this song, yeah
On a Saturday nite
On a Saturday nite
Everything is alright, wooh
That's when the bad man meets his fate
Sitting there, you're feeling only second rate
You're sorry now, you've come a little bit too late
Yes you did
But when you come around
You only bring you down
You feel a clown, yeah
On a Saturday nite
On a Saturday nite
Everything is alright, yeah
Mama said, she said it's gonna be alright
You know she said, you've got to see the coming light
You know you are, you're riding through your life
Yes you are
Well you know you've done your best
All you need's a little rest
You've done your best, yes
On a Saturday nite
On a Saturday nite
Everything is alright
Everything is alright
On a Saturday nite
On a Saturday nite
Everything is alright
Everything is alright
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
song performed by Journey
Added by Lucian Velea
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On A Saturday Nite
Mama said, she said it's gonna be alright
Yes she did, well come to bed and turn out the light
She's sleeping there, she's dreaming through her life
Yes she is
Well you know you've done no wrong
All you done is sing this song
You sing this song, yeah
On a Saturday nite
On a Saturday nite
Everything is alright, wooh
That's when the bad man meets his fate
Sitting there, you're feeling only second rate
You're sorry now, you've come a little bit too late
Yes you did
But when you come around
You only bring you down
You feel a clown, yeah
On a Saturday nite
On a Saturday nite
Everything is alright, yeah
Mama said, she said it's gonna be alright
You know she said, you've got to see the coming light
You know you are, you're riding through your life
Yes you are
Well you know you've done your best
All you need's a little rest
You've done your best, yes
On a Saturday nite
On a Saturday nite
Everything is alright
Everything is alright
On a Saturday nite
On a Saturday nite
Everything is alright
Everything is alright
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
song performed by Journey
Added by Lucian Velea
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Hurricane Cindy
What's that piece of ass i see walking over here?
What's that piece of ass to me, who is she standing near?
And when i walk on a cyclone
You should see it get rolling
Over my heart and emotion inside me
They go rolling inside me
Hold me close and never let me go
All my life i've wanted you to know
A few things 'bout me
I feel beautiful today
Lovely, beautiful
Saturday, saturday, saturday, saturday
Saturday, saturday, what's on the heel?
Saturday, saturday, saturday, saturday
What's on the heel, what's on the heel?
And when i walk on a cyclone
You should see it get rolling
Over my heart and emotion inside me
They go rolling inside me
Put it on the stereo and play
All my life i've wanted you to say
A few things 'bout me
I feel beautiful today
Lovely, beautiful
Saturday, saturday, saturday, saturday
Saturday, saturday, what's on the heel?
Saturday, saturday, saturday, saturday
What's on the heel, what's on the heel?
And when i walk on a cyclone
You should see it get rolling
Over my heart and emotions inside me
They go rolling inside me
And when i walk it's a riot
You should see the commotion
A hundred people drowning in oceans inside me
They go rolling inside me
Inside me
Inside me
"that's for cindy crawford.
song performed by Liz Phair
Added by Lucian Velea
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Chug-a-lug
Here a mug, there a mug, everybody chug-a-lug
Here a mug, there a mug, everybody chug-a-lug
Gary likes a girls tight black pants
Larry knows he doesnt stand a chance
Carl says hurry up and order it quick
Dave gets out to chase that chick
Dennis wonders whats under the hood
A big chrome tach and it sounds real good
I go down to the root beer stand
And drink up all that I can
Give me some root beer (chug-a-lug chug-a-lug chug-a-lug)
Give me some root beer (chug-a-lug chug-a-lug chug-a-lug)
Give me some root beer (chug-a-lug chug-a-lug chug-a-lug)
Cold beer, root beer
Here a mug, there a mug, everybody chug-a-lug
Brians still glued to the radio
Louies lookin out the rear window
Guys got around to orderin fries
But root beers my best buy
Give me some root beer (chug-a-lug chug-a-lug chug-a-lug)
Give me some root beer (chug-a-lug chug-a-lug chug-a-lug)
Give me some root beer (chug-a-lug chug-a-lug chug-a-lug)
Cold beer, root beer
Here a mug, there a mug, everybody chug-a-lug
Give me some root beer (chug-a-lug chug-a-lug chug-a-lug)
Give me some root beer (chug-a-lug chug-a-lug chug-a-lug)
Give me some root beer (chug-a-lug chug-a-lug chug-a-lug)
Cold beer, root beer
Here a mug, there a mug, everybody chug-a-lug
Root beer, need another mug now
Root beer, chug-a-lug-a-lug now
Root beer, need another mug now
Root beer, chug-a-lug-a-lug now
Root beer, need another mug now
Root beer, chug-a-lug-a-lug now
song performed by Beach Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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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
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My heart beat
It all seems like today
Ages have passed by…
My heart missed a beat
When I first saw you
When you stretched out your hand
When you spoke to me first
When you said you look good
When you stood talking for hours
My heart missed a beat
My heart missed a beat
When I met you
When we started dating
When we went on shopping
When we spent time in each other’s company
When we were in each other’s arms
My heart missed a beat
My heart missed a beat
When I wanted to say something
When you found that life was miserable
When you thought I should live with you
When you enjoyed my company
When you proposed to me
My heart missed a beat
My heart missed a beat
When I felt your love
When we first had a talk
When we had a long walk
When we never heard the waves on the shore
When we knew we loved each other
My heart missed a leap
My heart missed a leap
When I lost words
When you found them for me
When you touched me first
When you blew in my ears
When you kissed me first
My heart missed a beat
My heart missed a beat
When I saw the ring
When we decided
When we finalized things
When we knew everything was fine
When we heard the revolt
[...] Read more
poem by Leena Bose
Added by Poetry Lover
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Work To Make It Work
(r palmer)
Push it along
Work work work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work if you want to improve it
Push it along
It's all there for you to feel it
Help your self to one that you can't deal with
Ain't no way that you could steal it
You misunderstand if you get greedy
Ah push
Work work work to make it work push it along
Work work work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work if you want to improve
Don't confine your dreams to bed
You'll get scared if you get lazy
If you can't take enough to satisfy yourself
Then you'll go crazy
Wont do no good thinking
You got to do it
So it don't come easy the first time
Practice makes perfect, you know that i'll try hard
Use it or lose it
You got to put your heart and soul into it
Yeaheheh
Push it along
Work work work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work if you want to move it
Push it along
Work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work if you want to improve
It's all there for you to feel it
Help your self to one that you can't deal with
Ain't no way that you could steal it
You misunderstand if you get greedy forget wishful thinking
You can do it
You just need a push to make a start
If you don't succeed the first time
Try and try again
Use it or lose it
You got to put your back into it
Work work work to make it work
Push it along
[...] Read more
song performed by Robert Palmer
Added by Lucian Velea
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I Saw It Myself (Short Verse Drama)
Dramatis Personae: Adrian, his wife Ester, his sisters Rebecca and Johanna, his mother Elizabeth, the high priest Chiapas, the disciple Simon Peter, the disciple John, Mary Magdalene, worshipers, priests, two angels and Jesus Christ.
Act I
Scene I.- Adrian’s house in Jerusalem. Adrian has just returned home after a business journey in Galilee, in time to attend the Passover feast. He sits at the table with his wife Ester and his sisters, Rebecca and Johanna. It’s just before sunset on the Friday afternoon.
Adrian. (Somewhat puzzled) Strange things are happening,
some say demons dwell upon the earth,
others angelic beings, miracles take place
and all of this when they had put a man to death,
had crucified a criminal. Everybody knows
the cross is used for degenerates only!
Rebecca. (With a pleasant voice) Such harsh words used,
for a good, a great man brother?
They say that without charge
he healed the sick, brought back sight,
cured leprosy, even made some more food,
from a few fishes and loafs of bread…
Adrian. (Somewhat harsh) They say many things!
That he rode into Jerusalem
to be crowned as the new king,
was a rebel against the state,
even claimed to be
the very Son of God,
now that is blasphemy
if there is no truth to it!
Johanna. I met him once.
He’s not the man
that you make him, brother.
There was a strange tranquilly to Him.
Some would say a divine presence,
while He spoke of love that is selfless,
visited the sick, the poor
and even the destitute, even harlots.
Adrian. (Looks up) There you have it!
Harlots! Tax collecting thieves!
A man is know by his friends,
or so they say and probably
there is some truth to it.
Ester. Husband, do not be so quick to judge.
I have seen Him myself, have seen
Roman soldiers marching Him to the hill
to take His life, with a angry crowd
following and mocking Him.
[...] Read more
poem by Gert Strydom
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