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its the hazy eyes,
and the romantic lanterns,
climate highlighting.

haiku by Maria Barbara Korynt
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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
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The Climate Change Converts

After eleven years as Prime Minister it does seem quite strange
That John Howard the ageing politician is talking of climate change
But this after all is an Election year
And of losing the top job is now his greatest fear.

For eleven years warnings of climate change he chose to ignore
But climate change has become an Election issue as never before
Howard the climate change convert on combating climate change now leads the way
On climate change he has become an instant expert and on it has much to say.

His opponent for the top job Kevin Rudd is a climate change convert too
It is amazing what an Election can do
To the climate change realist voters they are trying to appeal
Of climate change suddenly they make a big deal.

The ideas of the climate change experts Howard and Rudd now embrace
As their moment of truth they are about to face
The climate realist voters they are trying to appease
But try as they will not everyone they will please.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Those Lazy Hazy Crazy Days Of Summer

-artist: nat king cole
-peak billboard position # 6 in 1963
-words by charles tobias and music by hans carste
Roll out those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer
Those days of soda and pretzels and beer
Roll out those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer
Dust off the sun and moon and sing a song of cheer
Just fill your basket full of sandwiches and weenies
Then lock the house up, now youre set
And on the beach youll see the girls in their bikinis
As cute as ever but they never get em wet
Roll out those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer
Those days of soda and pretzels and beer
Roll out those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer
Youll wish that summer could always be here
Roll out those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer
Those days of soda and pretzels and beer
Roll out those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer
Dust off the sun and moon and sing a song of cheer
Dont hafta tell a girl and fella about a drive-in
Or some romantic moon it seems
Right from the moment that those lovers start arrivin
Youll see more kissin in the cars than on the screen
Roll out those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer
Those days of soda and pretzels and beer
Roll out those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer
Youll wish that summer could always be here
Youll wish that summer could always be here
Youll wish that summer could always be here

song performed by Nat King Cole
Added by Lucian Velea
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What Would You Like

Tell me you name, tell me your sign.
Please tell me that my mind is right.
I just want to take you to my home.
Where we can talk by a fire all alone.
There's just one thing that I need to know.
Could you ever be there when I woke up,
Or will you be just another and be gone?

Should I buy you a dozen roses?
Should I write you a love poem,
Of how my heart can't stop beating for you?
Should I take you to a lakeside with a romantic dinner?
Would you like candle light flickering in front of us?
Would you like the lovely words that could roll off my tongue?
Would you like me to express how much you mean to me?
Would you like that soft romantic music in the background?

I take one look at you and my heart can't stop smiling.
It begins to display on the outside and my lips curl up.
Looking at you from across the void I can see my life with you.
You take a glance at me and can't help but notice to.
I walk around the corner and fade out of your sight.
I love playing this game.

Should I buy you a dozen roses?
Should I write you a love poem,
Of how my heart can't stop beating for you?
Should I take you to a lakeside with a romantic dinner?
Would you like candle light flickering in front of us?
Would you like the lovely words that could roll off my tongue?
Would you like me to express how much you mean to me?
Would you like that soft romantic music in the background?

You chase me around the corner at the end of the aisle.
And we both meet each other eye to eye.
My hands behind my back.
Can you guess what I've got in mind.
Oh I think you'll be suprized.
You look at me and begin to smile.

Should I buy you a dozen roses?
Should I write you a love poem,
Of how my heart can't stop beating for you?
Should I take you to a lakeside with a romantic dinner?
Would you like candle light flickering in front of us?
Would you like the lovely words that could roll off my tongue?
Would you like me to express how much you mean to me?
Would you like that soft romantic music in the background?

I see the moonlight fall across your face as you sleep.

[...] Read more

poem by Josh Burnett
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In The Deep Blue Sky

Close of from you there is always something
Dreams faraway - though twice is more than enough
Like time passes by to a world that will sing

In something that's happening all over the world
Brining to the ground what from inside is true
Footsteps going around to thinking once hurled

The playful of pulls to the up and the closing
And bringing away what they thought they found
Every aspect of happening in very first arousing

And bring to the distance
Every cloud faraway in the deep blue sky
With so much hazy of dreams that will try
With so much hazy of dreams going there by
To bring to the distance

To find what was once without any falling doubt
And giving enough of spaces there all between
Those go around in their wandering ways and about

In their hours of departing or staying
With every embrace of their opportunity
Like feelings that come for their unity
And everyone is finding inside of each own
For a while for a while

In something that's happening all over the world
Brining to the ground what from inside is true
Footsteps going around to thinking once hurled

And bring to the distance
Every cloud faraway in the deep blue sky
With so much hazy of dreams that will try
With so much hazy of dreams going there by
To bring to the distance

To the goings of my dreams in the faraway
Taking believes to its trail of another day
In the hours that come with each play

In something that's happening all over the world
Brining to the ground what from inside is true
Footsteps going around to thinking once hurled

And bring to the distance
Every cloud faraway in the deep blue sky
With so much hazy of dreams that will try
With so much hazy of dreams going there by

[...] Read more

poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Romantic Understandings

You've got me on a tightrope and trembling too!
This is not...
Romantic understanding.

You've got me so uptight I don't know what to do.
This is not...
Romantic understanding.

Tell me why,
Romantic understanding...
You aint got hip to yet!
Tell me why,
Romantic understandings...
From you I might not get.

Tell me why,
There's no romantic understanding.
Why...
There's no chance for romance.

And,
Tell me why...
There's no romantic understanding.
Or a chance for romance!

You've got me on a tightrope and trembling too!
You've got me so uptight I don't know what to do.

Tell me why,
There's no romantic understanding.
Why...
There's no chance for romance.

You've got me on a tightrope and trembling too!
You've got me so uptight I don't know what to do.
Can you.
Can you.
Can you...
I bet you can,
Tell me why,
There's no romantic understanding.
Why...
There's no chance for romance.

Tell me why,
Romantic understanding...
You aint got hip to yet!

Tell me why,
Romantic understandings...

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Isnt It Romantic

(eric carmen/andy goldmark)
Are the stars just shining brighter?
Is that perfume in the air?
Seems the moon has got control of me
And I dont really care
With our bodies gently swaying
To the rhythm of the night
Has there ever been a place or time
That ever felt so right
Oh, Ive dreamed about this moment
Ever since I saw your face
Now I never wanna let it slip away
Isnt it romantic
How our kisses seem to set the night on fire?
Baby, when I look at you it takes my breath away
Isnt it romantic
When we close our eyes and hold each other tight?
If only love could always be this way
Theres a samba playing somewhere
Or is it just my beating heart?
I can swear I hear the strumming of
A classical guitar
Playing softly while you whisper
All the words Ive longed to hear
As I pull your body close to mine
The world just disappears
Oh, I dreamed about this moment
Ever since I saw your face
Now I never wanna let it slip away
Isnt it romantic
How our kisses seem to set the night on fire?
Baby, when I look at you it takes my breath away
Isnt it romantic
When we close our eyes and hold each other tight?
If only love could always be this way
Isnt it romantic
How our kisses seem to set the night on fire?
Baby, when I look at you it takes my breath away
Isnt it romantic
When we close our eyes and hold each other tight?
If only love could always be this way
Isnt it romantic
How our kisses seem to set the night on fire?
Baby, when I look at you it takes my breath away
Isnt it romantic
When we close our eyes and hold each other tight?
If only love could always be this way

song performed by Eric Carmen
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Romantic

Isn't it romantic

how the chrysalids land on the ice cubes

in our drink to wink

with sunlight and time

for the dawning double blind

Isn't it romantic

how wings unborn

are worn to be torn

from our aesthetic interpretation

Isn't it romantic

that we should be so kind as to blind

as to bind each other

belieing bespeak betraying

Isn't it romantic

that we should drink such potion to spite

foreknowledge of death

innate insecurity feigning

Isn't it romantic

how the oils shift smudge to smear coupling

seething suppling searing

precious delicate contours

How I miss your words

tender as tobacco

[...] Read more

poem by Randy Resh
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Romance Seconds Me, Where Ever I Go

In your old age you too are trailed romantic,
Adolescent, manhood, triangle, -the tricks .
Love in any form is romance,
It is either an intoxication or trance.
When romance says you good bye,
...Love from your life by itself flies..

When I write a poem, -I cry,
I had tried, I failed, I try.
You Beauty, -your hello lips,
Mellow voice, willowing-cave,
Youthful shape, flash in my rib ,

When I paint, -the Eye –romance,
The eternity peeps, and dances,
I say, simply, it is and I a romantic.

Shakespeare for the Dark Lady,
Turned romantic and shady,
Tagore, -swam in Labana’s lake,
He, you, and me, assumed fake,
Live and let live to bake romance’s cake
A little bioscope-romantic sake.

Is my birth for some One’s romance,
Between Time and Nature, -a romantic play,
Am I one of Every man’s humor?
With each change of transient –clay.

Satan’s virtue made Eve, romantic,
Adam’s test of forbidden fruit,
In our life’s flow installed romantic root.

Could I live without my mother,
Whose concern by virtue is romantic,
And with my darling oblivious,
My untold hang, whispers unheard song,
In her charmed magic, to saturate the prong.

My God is romance incarnate,
And the Fate I tackle is so,
Romance seconds me where ever I go

poem by Ray Subrata Ray
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Romance Seconds Me, Where Ever I Go

In your old age you too are trailed romantic,
Adolescent, manhood, triangle, -the tricks .
Love in any form is romance,
It is either an intoxication or trance.
When romance says you good bye,
...Love from your life by itself flies..

When I write a poem, -I cry,
I had tried, I failed, I try.
You Beauty, -your hello lips,
Mellow voice, willowing-cave,
Youthful shape, flash in my rib ,

When I paint, -the Eye –romance,
The eternity peeps, and dances,
I say, simply, it is and I a romantic.

Shakespeare for the Dark Lady,
Turned romantic and shady,
Tagore, -swam in Labana’s lake,
He, you, and me, assumed fake,
Live and let live to bake romance’s cake
A little bioscope-romantic sake.

Is my birth for some One’s romance,
Between Time and Nature, -a romantic play,
Am I one of Every man’s humor?
With each change of transient –clay.

Satan’s virtue made Eve, romantic,
Adam’s test of forbidden fruit,
In our life’s flow installed romantic root.

Could I live without my mother,
Whose concern by virtue is romantic,
And with my darling oblivious,
My untold hang, whispers unheard song,
In her charmed magic, to saturate the prong.

My God is romance incarnate,
And the Fate I tackle is so,
Romance seconds me where ever I go.

poem by Bazi alis Subrata Ray
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In Your Eyes

accepting all i've done and said
I want to stand and stare again
Til there's nothing left out, oh
It remains there in your eyes
Whatever comes and goes
I will hear your silent call
I will touch this tender wall
Til i know i'm home again
Ooh
In your eyes (in your eyes)
In your eyes (in your eyes)
In your eyes (in your eyes)
In your eyes
Love i get so lost, sometimes
Days pass and this emptiness fills my heart
When i want to run away
I drive off in my car
But whichever way i go
I come back to the place you are
And all my instincts, they return
And the grand facade, so soon will burn
Without a noise, without my pride
I reach out from the inside
In your eyes
The light the heat
In your eyes
I am complete
In your eyes
I see the doorway (in your eyes) to a thousand churches
In your eyes
The resolution (in your eyes) of all the fruitless searches
In your eyes
I see the light and the heat
In your eyes
Oh, i want to be that complete
I want to touch the light
The heat i see in your eyes
In your eyes
In your eyes
Love, i don't like to see so much pain
So much wasted and this moment keeps slipping away
I get so tired of working so hard for our survival
I look to the time with you to keep me awake and alive
And all my instincts, they return
And the grand facade, so soon will burn
Without a noise, without my pride
I reach out from the inside
In your eyes
The light the heat
In your eyes

[...] Read more

song performed by Peter Gabriel
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Canto the Twelfth

I
Of all the barbarous middle ages, that
Which is most barbarous is the middle age
Of man; it is -- I really scarce know what;
But when we hover between fool and sage,
And don't know justly what we would be at --
A period something like a printed page,
Black letter upon foolscap, while our hair
Grows grizzled, and we are not what we were; --

II
Too old for youth, -- too young, at thirty-five,
To herd with boys, or hoard with good threescore, --
I wonder people should be left alive;
But since they are, that epoch is a bore:
Love lingers still, although 't were late to wive;
And as for other love, the illusion's o'er;
And money, that most pure imagination,
Gleams only through the dawn of its creation.

III
O Gold! Why call we misers miserable?
Theirs is the pleasure that can never pall;
Theirs is the best bower anchor, the chain cable
Which holds fast other pleasures great and small.
Ye who but see the saving man at table,
And scorn his temperate board, as none at all,
And wonder how the wealthy can be sparing,
Know not what visions spring from each cheese-paring.

IV
Love or lust makes man sick, and wine much sicker;
Ambition rends, and gaming gains a loss;
But making money, slowly first, then quicker,
And adding still a little through each cross
(Which will come over things), beats love or liquor,
The gamester's counter, or the statesman's dross.
O Gold! I still prefer thee unto paper,
Which makes bank credit like a bank of vapour.

V
Who hold the balance of the world? Who reign
O'er congress, whether royalist or liberal?
Who rouse the shirtless patriots of Spain? [*]
(That make old Europe's journals squeak and gibber all.)
Who keep the world, both old and new, in pain
Or pleasure? Who make politics run glibber all?
The shade of Buonaparte's noble daring? --
Jew Rothschild, and his fellow-Christian, Baring.

[...] Read more

poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Climate Change

'Tis said that Bangladesh and Holland will be covered by the sea
And that climate change and global warming will cause World-wide poverty
Yet the advice of climate experts we do never seem to heed
Our disrespect for Mother Nature to our own demise may lead
Millions due to rising of sea water levels of homelessness and poverty will know
Yet for Mother Nature who does feed us little respect we do show
The burning of fossil fuels and noxious gases we pay for in acid rain
And the warnings of the climate experts sad to say have been in vain
Millions of cars and factory chimneys pumping black smoke to the sky
And from long spells of warm weather water reservoirs near dry
Climate change is all around us and climate change it is for real
And if we do not show respect for Nature her wrath we are bound to feel
And Bangladesh and Holland will be covered by sea water within decades it is said
And millions will be homeless and millions will be dead.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Forever More

Baby, Ive just been sitting here thinking, how blessed I am to have someone
Like you in my life and Im so excited so so excited about being with you for
The rest of my life listen
Looking at all theses hand, damn I use to be alonely man, could never
Understand, why I had no one to take my hand but then the weather changed
Mother-nature brought the sun my way, now girl your who I am and I have you for
The rest of my days.....
How the sun comes up in the early morning time, girl I vowel to be forever
Loving you rain or shine, how the moon takes us on this romantic globe Ill be
Lovin you forever more... oooh oh yeah
Now I used to think that I would never, have a serious relationship, always
Praying for that one to come along and give me what I miss, but now those
Thoughts are no more, every since you came into my life, its like heaven
Opened up its doors, showered down on me the perfect wife....oooh ohhh
How the sun comes up in the early morning time girl, I vowel to be forever
Loving you rain or shine, how the moon takes us on this romantic globe Ill be
Lovin you forever more... oooh oh yeah oh yeah
Baby, now our house, our house, is a home, the car, we own, whats mine is
Yours, the keys to the doors, my family, my family, my friend, my friends, the
Church, we belong together, heaven drum say, our house is a home the car, we
Own, whats mine is yours the keys to the doors, my family, my family, my
Friend, my friends the church we belong together and its on...
How the sun comes up in the early morning time girl I vowel to be forever
Loving you rain or shine, how the moon takes us on this romantic globe Ill be
Lovin you forever more...
How the sun comes up in the early morning time girl I vowel to be forever
Loving you rain or shine, how the moon takes us on this romantic globe Ill be
Lovin you forever more...
How the sun comes up in the early morning time girl I vowel to be forever
Loving you rain or shine, how the moon takes us on this romantic globe Ill be
Lovin you forever more...
How the sun comes up in the early morning time girl I vowel to be forever
Loving you rain or shine, how the moon takes us on this romantic globe Ill be
Lovin you forever more...
How the sun comes up in the early morning time girl I vowel to be forever
Loving you rain or shine, how the moon takes us on this romantic globe Ill be
Lovin you forever more...

song performed by R. Kelly
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In Defense of Romantic Love

She said:
'In defense of Love I have only Faith and Necessity to offer;
without Romantic Love I fear the species dies.'

'Well' he said 'Romantic Love is a recent and western notion you see
and has existed only in the last 200 years and mostly in the west-invented I think by the Victorians and the Romantic Poets.''

'So tell me then my friend' he said 'what is Romantic Love good for? Is it not best to assure that a couple has good families involved since after all is it
not true that what is happening here is not a tryst but two families coming
together?
And too, no couple can make it alone on Love's Grist..

Arranged marriages has been the norm and is the best if the test is
longevity.'Romantic Love too often he said ends in Unromantic divorce miserable kids and True Love's Adversities.

'Are you saying then she said we jettison Romantic Love and its pursuits? '
'In that case let me state, then combine, what I take to be True Love's true defenses.
Love its true, is the bonding start, but behind that is unlimited Faith in the
the Other unrelenting.
Otherwise we would all marry only near clones of ourselves
and destroy, in life and family, all variety.

'Even cave people insisted that marriages take place outside the tribe with others not only to avoid incest but, too, to diversity the gene pool which
undiversified would result in the death of the species due to genetic stultification.'

'So Romeo and Juliet came to a bad end but their idea was correct. Opposites attract for good reason. It is built into the genes.

So in defense of Romantic Love there can be no higher defense than this.
What does marriage arrangements offer in retort- a dull family contract
endless tryists, and consorts where old men marry young girls who emotionally bolt and emotionally re-marry some younger buck.
Or if of similar age, they stay together for the sake of family.
Humm, too often this home feels like prison camp.
No carry me away to Love's excess even if under distress it may crumble
but lacking love in marriage is no bliss and looks more like accommodation
lacking True Love's Sweetness.
Ah, he said we both have our view on Love and no-love estrangement:
perhaps we two could make some arrangement and see if True Love blooms?
She smiled 'Well, they say True Love begins with humor.
Sure, let's talk some more.'
He said;
'Beautiful.'

poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Are You Really a True Romantic?

I wonder, where have all the True Romantics gone? ... there are, but few
still flowering... still spinning dreams, still weaving words of love so true.
For, when l read a book, or watch a movie... perhaps, read a line
or two of poetry... l know that, somewhere in there, l will find
some bitter, shadowy undertone... perhaps, to spice some ailing plot?
True feelings, it may well reflect...
but True Romantic? ...
l think not.

The True Romantic is a gentle soul... a Literary Unicorn,
existing in a Golden Land, from where the sweet, soft dreams are born;
all spun from strands of pure romance... this bright-eyed hope of love, so fair;
no shadows here, to spoil the magic woven from the heart, with care.
The Unicorn is, but a dream... in myth, beyond our sight... far lost;
but, lose the True Romantic... lose the dream;
is this, then worth the cost?

Perhaps, it is that we have wandered from the path, in modern days;
perhaps, it is not now correct... politically, to trace the ways
the great Romantics, down the ages weaved their bright and shining dreams,
yet, there was sadness... there was yearning in their works...
but, now.... it seems
that all emotions... good or bad, must be displayed... the darker side;
the negativity of love... when lost, betrayed...
or just, denied.

So, is this some analysis... some facet of psychology
the author feels a need to show?
for it is not quite poetry,
or writing in the manner of the True Romantic... can't they see
the True Romantic's dream just cannot mix with grim reality?
As different as chalk and cheese; a world apart... a different thing
from the tapestry of dreaming that the True Romantic spins.

It is certain, that this rhyme will ruffle feathers far and wide...
but, the words therein contain the truth... it cannot be denied.
When seeking out the True Romantic's world, so many paths unfold
a promise of this Golden Land; yet seven in ten are dead and cold;
leading nowhere, but, to broken hearts... and sweet dreams, cruelly blighted...
the True Romantics work must leave imaginations
quite delighted.

Perhaps the authors of today, beset by cultural platitudes;
the realists... the avant garde... the modernistic attitudes,
have somehow, lost their bright-eyed innocence...
the touchstone of Romance;
if, this is so; then sad to say... they really do not stand a chance
of ever really dreaming Golden dreams... as True Romantics do...
Will the tiny flame still flicker in the dark?
l do hope so.

poem by Dream Weaver
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That Afternoon

i was there again
standing by the side of the old
glass windows
hazy because of the dust
it is hazy, hazy
the sea is linen white
the coconut trees as tall as they are very old
planted perhaps before the war
before the Japanese came
and ravished the spirits of our innocent people
i was there again
standing on a moment
always seeing
that rusty van parked
without its front wheel
nobody from there is asking
what is happening
it is hazy, as hazy as dusts
on that old glass window
then a black bird flies through
it breaking the thin old glass
into shattered pieces

the afternoon ended
on that sudden noise
i am telling you
i am not shocked because
i am not new to this
how can i be? i am as old and as
tall as that coconut tree
i am from this place
and i know each grain of sand
on the shore
of that white linen sea.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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

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poem by Mahendra Bhatnagar
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Canto the Second

I
Oh ye! who teach the ingenuous youth of nations,
Holland, France, England, Germany, or Spain,
I pray ye flog them upon all occasions,
It mends their morals, never mind the pain:
The best of mothers and of educations
In Juan's case were but employ'd in vain,
Since, in a way that's rather of the oddest, he
Became divested of his native modesty.

II
Had he but been placed at a public school,
In the third form, or even in the fourth,
His daily task had kept his fancy cool,
At least, had he been nurtured in the north;
Spain may prove an exception to the rule,
But then exceptions always prove its worth -—
A lad of sixteen causing a divorce
Puzzled his tutors very much, of course.

III
I can't say that it puzzles me at all,
If all things be consider'd: first, there was
His lady-mother, mathematical,
A—never mind; his tutor, an old ass;
A pretty woman (that's quite natural,
Or else the thing had hardly come to pass);
A husband rather old, not much in unity
With his young wife—a time, and opportunity.

IV
Well—well, the world must turn upon its axis,
And all mankind turn with it, heads or tails,
And live and die, make love and pay our taxes,
And as the veering wind shifts, shift our sails;
The king commands us, and the doctor quacks us,
The priest instructs, and so our life exhales,
A little breath, love, wine, ambition, fame,
Fighting, devotion, dust,—perhaps a name.

V
I said that Juan had been sent to Cadiz -—
A pretty town, I recollect it well -—
'T is there the mart of the colonial trade is
(Or was, before Peru learn'd to rebel),
And such sweet girls—I mean, such graceful ladies,
Their very walk would make your bosom swell;
I can't describe it, though so much it strike,
Nor liken it—I never saw the like:

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poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Eyes

Eyes are blue
Eyes are green
Eyes are true
Eyes are mean

Eyes are bright
Give the light
Eyes are black
Like the night

Eyes are cold
Eyes are warm
Eyes are angry
Like a storm

Eyes are kind
Eyes are blind
Eyes are evil
Eyes of devil

Eyes are hungry
Eyes of walls
Eyes are empty
Eyes of dolls

Eyes are loving
Eyes are charming
Eyes are lying
Truth denying

Eyes are haughty
Eyes are naughty
Eyes are naïve
To all they believe

Eyes are strained
A fear remained
Eyes without hope
Ready for the rope

Eyes are vulnerable
Eyes that gamble
Eyes are sensitive
Eyes are attentive

Eyes are stubborn
Eyes are submissive
Eyes of a new born
Eyes are pensive

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poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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