My Ode To Love
Twirling
Falling aimlessly
My ode to love was inaudible
Whirling against the breath and sigh
Of yesterdays
Dorothy Alves Holmes
A Poet Who Loves To Sing
poem by Dorothy Holmes
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Related quotes
Dorothy Parker
Dorothy Parker [Controversy Music, ASCAP - 1987]
--------------
Dorothy was a waitress on the promenade
She worked the night shift
Dishwater blonde, tall and fine
She got a lot of tips
Well, earlier I'd been talkin' stuff
In a violent room
Fighting with lovers past
I needed someone with a quicker wit than mine
Dorothy was fast
Well, I ordered - "Yeah, let me get a fruit cocktail, I ain't 2 hungry"
Dorothy laughed
She said "Sounds like a real man 2 me"
Kinda cute, U wanna take a bath?
(do you wanna, do you wanna, bath)
I said "Cool, but I'm leaving my pants on" (she say)
"Cuz I'm kind of going with someone"
She said "Sounds like a real man 2 me"
"Mind if I turn on the radio?"
"Oh, my favorite song" she said
And it was Joni singing "Help me I think I'm falling"
(Ring)
The phone rang and she said
"Whoever's calling can't be as cute as U"
Right then I knew I was through
(Dorothy Parker was cool)
My pants where wet, they came off
But she didn't see the movie
Cuz she hadn't read the book first
Instead she pretended she was blind
An affliction brought on by a witch's curse
Dorothy made me laugh (ha ha)
I felt much better so I went back
2 the violent room (tell us what U did)
Let me tell U what I did...
I took another bubble bath with my pants on
All the fighting stopped
Next time I'll do it sooner
This is the ballad of Dorothy Parker
Dorothy Parker, Dorothy Parker, Dorothy Parker
Dorothy Parker, Dorothy Parker, Dorothy Parker
Well
Dorothy Parker, Dorothy Parker
Well
song performed by Prince
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Rode to a Knight Impale - after John Keats - Ode to a Nightingale
. :) kindly refer to notes. :)
My part aches and a rousing stiffness pains
my whole as though viagra I had drank,
or loosened up some pheronomic chains
split seconds past, endorphined, anticipating prank.
'Tis not through envy that I ask a lot,
but seeking through your image happiness,
love-lipped epitome of all that please
amused muse stays aware that what you've got
conjurs wet dreams, streams’ ready eddies numberless,
straw hollow swallows spring in full-throated ease.
O, for a draught of vintage! that hath been
fat vat prime time cocked, erect in deep pelvic berth,
tasting of horny fauna’s jelly beans,
dancing tandem to tambourine song since sunny birth!
O for a beaker full of the warm south,
filled to whet winking brink noways obscene,
with beaded bubbles oozing at the brim,
of purple-hooded mouth;
That I might drink, and leave the world unseen,
and with thee knock on doors quite in the swim:
ride far away, knot solve, and quite forget
what you senses leaves had never known,
no weariness, no fever, and no fret.
Here, men lose wit to hear each other groan
as palsy shakes a few, sad, beardless chins,
where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and sighs;
where but to think of size baits rod with sorrow
and leaden-eyed despairs,
No, Beauty, none may mime your lustrous eyes,
where new Love pines, fears un-orgasmic morrow.
Away! away! for I will fly to thee,
not roped in by vile censors, critics’ pards,
but on untrammelled wings of intimacy,
though most dull brains perplex, their sloth retards.
Already with thee! tender is the night,
and tenderness my motto ‘tis well known
to massage tissues starry nights, sun days,
without the which love’s light
moons absence of reflection, breezes blown
through tortuous gameplays, inexperienced ways.
You should not care what flowers are at your feet,
for all is incense garland, and endows
[...] Read more
poem by Jonathan Robin
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The Ballad Of Dorothy Parker
Dorothy was a waitress on the promenade
She worked the night shift
Dishwater blonde, tall and fine
She got a lot of tips
Well, earlier Id been talkin stuff
In a violent room
Fighting with lovers past
I needed someone with a quicker wit than mine
Dorothy was fast
Well, I ordered - yeah, let me get a fruit cocktail, I aint 2 hungry
Dorothy laughed
She said sounds like a real man 2 me
Kinda cute, u wanna take a bath?
(do you wanna, do you wanna, bath)
I said cool, but Im leaving my pants on (she say)
Cuz Im kind of going with someone
She said sounds like a real man 2 me
Mind if I turn on the radio?
Oh, my favorite song she said
And it was joni singing help me I think Im falling
(ring)
The phone rang and she said
Whoevers calling cant be as cute as u
Right then I knew I was through
(dorothy parker was cool)
My pants where wet, they came off
But she didnt see the movie
Cuz she hadnt read the book first
Instead she pretended she was blind
An affliction brought on by a witchs curse
Dorothy made me laugh (ha ha)
I felt much better so I went back
2 the violent room (tell us what u did)
Let me tell u what I did...
I took another bubble bath with my pants on
All the fighting stopped
Next time Ill do it sooner
This is the ballad of dorothy parker
Dorothy parker, dorothy parker, dorothy parker
Dorothy parker, dorothy parker, dorothy parker
Well
Dorothy parker, dorothy parker
Well
song performed by Prince
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Synergy of Love
'Were you honed from poetry? '
I asked your saddened smile.
For it seems to tell a longing tale -
One of words in oratory
That speaks in languid metaphors
From lips of mind in deep despair
And solitude from inner wars
That over time has rendered life so frail.
'Were you carved from doleful prose? '
I sought to ask your gaze,
For a pain lies deep within your eyes -
One of barren territory
Where no fair heart could ever drift
And hope to venture back content
With grateful memories in a gift -
A land of your affectional demise.
'Do I hear a mournful hum? '
I wondered of your cry,
For it sings a song of deep lament -
One of quiet soliloquy
Recited on deserted strands
To waves that have no sense of song
And only wish to fight the sands -
A chant that cites emotional descent.
Do you know your face portrays
The colours of your soul?
It tells me at a single glance
Of how you burned your furnace whole
To stay the fire in our romance.
And see the prismic hues they bore!
I cherished all I ever saw:
Mauve of mystic; browns of rustic;
Reddened tones to match your blush;
Marine of passion, spending out your being,
Leaving you for ashen embers, fleeing
The dying light in hush of night.
And how you lay there empty.
So let me help re-grow the flowers
Once erect in fiery showers!
For now I've seen what love can do
When torn asunder - oh my catastrophic blunder!
But we must realise -
Our flaming want is meant to be!
We are the ocean and the sea;
[...] Read more
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Forsaking My Love
I hate you
I wish to tear you away from me
This tumor that clings to my chest
The thing that makes me ache
That haunts my dreams
And tears at my desires
You have brought me only pain
My untamed heart
That beast that gnaws at my soul
That pitifully whines
Bringing my mind into unwanted pain
Yet how can I blame you
How can I chastise you when I listen intently to your pleas
Why should I punish you for what my eyes feed upon
How can I blame my eyes for falling upon her
She who brings light to the eternal darkness of my soul
She whose eyes bring me to subjection
Whose smile leaves me in awe
How can I blame you when my ears are met with her laughter
How they submerge into her song
How they quiver at her voice
Why should I punish you for inclining my soul
Tempting it with the one sense that has been forsaken by her
How could I look over the thought of the brushing of lips
The touching of hands
The binding of the soul, mind, and body
O you wretched heart
What am I to do with this constant companion
How could I tear you away
When she is the cause of my agony
Or rather
It is the lack of her which brings me sorrow
It is the need for her that leaves my heart in pain
Yet she is not mine
She was never mine
She will never be mine
O my poor heart
How can I make you see reason
When all you do is show me the truth
love love love love love love love
love love love love love love love
love love love love love love love
love love love love love love love
love love love love love love love
love love love love love love love
love love love love love love love
love love love love love love love
[...] Read more
poem by Michael Silver
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Sing Along To The Song Of The Sea
Sing along, sing along to the song of the sea
In the wash of white, wild weather’s wave,
As it gushes galore
Onto strand’s silver shore,
Like a ghost from a galleon’s grave.
Sing along, sing along to the song of the sea
In the shout of coarse cannon’s rough roar
That rang round Britain’s bays
In Drake’s drum’s finest days,
When England and Spain went to war.
Sing along, sing along to the song of the sea
In the piping aboard of massed men,
As brave sailors set sail,
Swearing never to fail
If England is threatened again.
Sing along, sing along to the song of the sea
In the murmur of muttering crew
Who sent cruel Captain Bligh
All adrift ’neath the sky,
As the Bounty retreated from view.
Sing along, sing along to the song of the sea
In the hovering hum of the heat
In the eye that is formed
In a tropical storm
As it seems to have paused for a sleep.
Sing along, sing along to the song of the sea
In the pitter and patter of rain,
Which refuses to stop
Until every last drop
Is returned with its might to the main.
Sing along, sing along to the song of the sea
In the thrash of the threatening tide,
As it rushes, so rough,
In great gales from the gulf,
Fetching flotsam along for the ride.
Sing along, sing along to the song of the sea
In the moan of a shuddering mast,
As it bends in the gale,
Which hopes it will fail
In the force of its battering blast.
Sing along, sing along to the song of the sea
In the clap of loud thunder’s harsh crack,
[...] Read more
poem by C. Richard Miles
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The Court Of Love
With timerous hert and trembling hand of drede,
Of cunning naked, bare of eloquence,
Unto the flour of port in womanhede
I write, as he that non intelligence
Of metres hath, ne floures of sentence;
Sauf that me list my writing to convey,
In that I can to please her hygh nobley.
The blosmes fresshe of Tullius garden soote
Present thaim not, my mater for to borne:
Poemes of Virgil taken here no rote,
Ne crafte of Galfrid may not here sojorne:
Why nam I cunning? O well may I morne,
For lak of science that I can-not write
Unto the princes of my life a-right
No termes digne unto her excellence,
So is she sprong of noble stirpe and high:
A world of honour and of reverence
There is in her, this wil I testifie.
Calliope, thou sister wise and sly,
And thou, Minerva, guyde me with thy grace,
That langage rude my mater not deface.
Thy suger-dropes swete of Elicon
Distill in me, thou gentle Muse, I pray;
And thee, Melpomene, I calle anon,
Of ignoraunce the mist to chace away;
And give me grace so for to write and sey,
That she, my lady, of her worthinesse,
Accepte in gree this litel short tretesse,
That is entitled thus, 'The Court of Love.'
And ye that ben metriciens me excuse,
I you besech, for Venus sake above;
For what I mene in this ye need not muse:
And if so be my lady it refuse
For lak of ornat speche, I wold be wo,
That I presume to her to writen so.
But myn entent and all my besy cure
Is for to write this tretesse, as I can,
Unto my lady, stable, true, and sure,
Feithfull and kind, sith first that she began
Me to accept in service as her man:
[...] Read more
poem by Anonymous Olde English
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Fifth Book
AURORA LEIGH, be humble. Shall I hope
To speak my poems in mysterious tune
With man and nature,–with the lava-lymph
That trickles from successive galaxies
Still drop by drop adown the finger of God,
In still new worlds?–with summer-days in this,
That scarce dare breathe, they are so beautiful?–
With spring's delicious trouble in the ground
Tormented by the quickened blood of roots.
And softly pricked by golden crocus-sheaves
In token of the harvest-time of flowers?–
With winters and with autumns,–and beyond,
With the human heart's large seasons,–when it hopes
And fears, joys, grieves, and loves?–with all that strain
Of sexual passion, which devours the flesh
In a sacrament of souls? with mother's breasts,
Which, round the new made creatures hanging there,
Throb luminous and harmonious like pure spheres?–
With multitudinous life, and finally
With the great out-goings of ecstatic souls,
Who, in a rush of too long prisoned flame,
Their radiant faces upward, burn away
This dark of the body, issuing on a world
Beyond our mortal?–can I speak my verse
So plainly in tune to these things and the rest,
That men shall feel it catch them on the quick,
As having the same warrant over them
To hold and move them, if they will or no,
Alike imperious as the primal rhythm
Of that theurgic nature? I must fail,
Who fail at the beginning to hold and move
One man,–and he my cousin, and he my friend,
And he born tender, made intelligent,
Inclined to ponder the precipitous sides
Of difficult questions; yet, obtuse to me,–
Of me, incurious! likes me very well,
And wishes me a paradise of good,
Good looks, good means, and good digestion!–ay,
But otherwise evades me, puts me off
With kindness, with a tolerant gentleness,–
Too light a book for a grave man's reading! Go,
Aurora Leigh: be humble.
There it is;
We women are too apt to look to one,
Which proves a certain impotence in art.
We strain our natures at doing something great,
Far less because it's something great to do,
Than, haply, that we, so, commend ourselves
As being not small, and more appreciable
To some one friend. We must have mediators
[...] Read more
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
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Waking The Witch
Wake up!
A good morning, maam. your early morning call.
You must wake up!
[titter] wake up! [titter]
Wake up, man!
Wake up, child! pay attention!
Come on, wake up!
Wake up, love!
We should make the night, but see your little lights alive!
Stop that lyin and a-sleepin in bed--get up!
Ma needs a shower. get out of bed! [words uncertain]
Little light...
Can you not see that little light up there?
Where?
There!
Where?
Over here!
You still in bed?
Wake up, sleepy-head!
We are of the going water and the gone. we are of water in the holy land of water
Dont you know youve kept him waiting?
Look whos here to see you!
Listen to me, listen to me, baby. listen, baby, help me,
Baby! help me, help me! listen to me, talk to me!
You wont burn.
Red, red roses.
You wont bleed.
Pinks and posies.
Confess to me, girl.
Red, red roses,*
Go down!
Spiritus sanctus in nomine...[inaudible]
Spiritus sanctus in nomine...[inaudible]
Spiritus sanctus in nomine...[inaudible]
Spiritus sanctus in nomine...[inaudible]
Poor little thing,
Red, red roses,
The blackbird!
Pinks and posies.
Wings in the water,
Red, red roses, go down,**
Go down.
Pinks and posies.
Deus et dei domino...[inaudible]
Deus et dei domino...[inaudible]
Deus et dei domino...[inaudible]
Deus et dei domino...[inaudible]
What is it, child?
Bless me, father, bless me, father, for I have sinned.
Red, red roses!
[...] Read more
song performed by Kate Bush
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The Victories Of Love. Book II
I
From Jane To Her Mother
Thank Heaven, the burthens on the heart
Are not half known till they depart!
Although I long'd, for many a year,
To love with love that casts out fear,
My Frederick's kindness frighten'd me,
And heaven seem'd less far off than he;
And in my fancy I would trace
A lady with an angel's face,
That made devotion simply debt,
Till sick with envy and regret,
And wicked grief that God should e'er
Make women, and not make them fair.
That he might love me more because
Another in his memory was,
And that my indigence might be
To him what Baby's was to me,
The chief of charms, who could have thought?
But God's wise way is to give nought
Till we with asking it are tired;
And when, indeed, the change desired
Comes, lest we give ourselves the praise,
It comes by Providence, not Grace;
And mostly our thanks for granted pray'rs
Are groans at unexpected cares.
First Baby went to heaven, you know,
And, five weeks after, Grace went, too.
Then he became more talkative,
And, stooping to my heart, would give
Signs of his love, which pleased me more
Than all the proofs he gave before;
And, in that time of our great grief,
We talk'd religion for relief;
For, though we very seldom name
Religion, we now think the same!
Oh, what a bar is thus removed
To loving and to being loved!
For no agreement really is
In anything when none's in this.
Why, Mother, once, if Frederick press'd
His wife against his hearty breast,
The interior difference seem'd to tear
My own, until I could not bear
The trouble. 'Twas a dreadful strife,
And show'd, indeed, that faith is life.
He never felt this. If he did,
I'm sure it could not have been hid;
For wives, I need not say to you,
[...] Read more
poem by Coventry Patmore
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Z. Comments
CRYSTAL GLOW
Madhur Veena Comment: Who is she? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ....You write good!
Margaret Alice Comment: Beautiful, it stikes as heartfelt words and touches the heart, beautiful sentiments, sorry, I repeat myself, but I am delighted. Your poem is like the trinkets I collect to adorn my personal space, pure joy to read, wonderful! Only a beautiful mind can harbour such sentiments, you have a beautiful mind. I am glad you have found someone that inspires you to such heights and that you share it with us, you make the world a mroe wonderful place.
Margaret Alice Comment: Within the context set by the previous poem, “Cosmic Probe”, the description of a lover’s adoration for his beloved becomes a universal ode sung to the abstract values of love, joy and hope personified by light, colours, fragrance and beauty, qualities the poet assigns to his beloved, thus elevating her to the status of an uplifting force because she brings all these qualities to his attention. The poet recognises that these personified values brings him fulfilment and chose the image of a love relationship to illustrate how this comes about; thus a love poem becomes the vehicle to convey spiritual epiphany.
FRAGRANT JASMINE
Margaret Alice Comment: Your words seem to be directed to a divine entity, you seem to be addressing your adoration to a divinity, and it is wonderful to read of such sublime sentiments kindled in a human soul. Mankind is always lifted up by their vision and awareness of divinity, thank you for such pure, clear diction and sharing your awareness of the sublime with us, you have uplifted me so much by this vision you have created!
Margaret Alice Comment: The poet’s words seem to be directed to a divine entity, express adoration to a divinity who is the personification of wonderful qualities which awakens a sense of the sublime in the human soul. An uplifting vision and awareness of uplifting qualities of innocence represented by a beautiful person.
I WENT THERE TO BID HER ADIEU
Kente Lucy Comment: wow great writing, what a way to bid farewell
Margaret Alice Comment: Sensory experience is elevated by its symbolical meaning, your description of the scene shows two souls becoming one and your awareness of the importance of tempory experience as a symbol of the eternal duration of love and companionship - were temporary experience only valid for one moment in time, it would be a sad world, but once it is seen as a symbol of eternal things, it becomes enchanting.
I’M INCOMPLETE WITHOUT YOU
Margaret Alice Comment: You elevate the humnan experience of longing for love to a striving for sublimity in uniting with a beloved person, and this poem is stirring, your style of writing is effective, everything flows together perfectly.
Margaret Alice Comment:
'To a resplendent glow of celestial flow
And two split halves unite never to part.'
Reading your fluent poems is a delight, I have to tear myself away and return to the life of a drudge, but what a treasure trove of jewels you made for the weary soul who needs to contemplate higher ideals from time to time!
IN CELESTIAL WINGS
Margaret Alice Comment: When you describe how you are strengthened by your loved one, it is clear that your inner flame is so strong that you need not fear growing old, your spirit seems to become stronger, you manage to convey this impression by your striking poetry. It is a privilege to read your work.
Obed Dela Cruz Comment: wow.... i remembered will shakespeare.... nice poem!
Margaret Alice Comment: The poet has transcended the barriers of time and space by becoming an image of his beloved and being able to find peace in the joy he confers to his beloved.
'You transcend my limits, transcend my soul, I forget my distress in your thoughts And discover my peace in your joy, For, I’m mere image of you, my beloved.'
Margaret Alice Comment: You are my peace and solace, I know, I am, yours too; A mere flash of your thoughts Enlivens my tired soul And fills me with light, peace and solace, A giant in new world, I become, I rise to divine heights in celestial wings. How I desire to reciprocate To fill you with light and inner strength raise you to divine heights; I must cross over nd hold you in arms, light up your soul, Fill you with strength from my inner core, Wipe away your tears burst out in pure joy How I yearn to instill hope and confidence in you we never part And we shall wait, till time comes right. the flame in my soul always seeks you, you transcend my limits, transcend my soul, I forget my distress in your thoughts And discover my peace in your joy, For, I’m mere image of you, my beloved.
RAGING FIRE
[...] Read more
poem by Praveen Kumar
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The Undying One- Canto III
'THERE is a sound the autumn wind doth make
Howling and moaning, listlessly and low:
Methinks that to a heart that ought to break
All the earth's voices seem to murmur so.
The visions that crost
Our path in light--
The things that we lost
In the dim dark night--
The faces for which we vainly yearn--
The voices whose tones will not return--
That low sad wailing breeze doth bring
Borne on its swift and rushing wing.
Have ye sat alone when that wind was loud,
And the moon shone dim from the wintry cloud?
When the fire was quench'd on your lonely hearth,
And the voices were still which spoke of mirth?
If such an evening, tho' but one,
It hath been yours to spend alone--
Never,--though years may roll along
Cheer'd by the merry dance and song;
Though you mark'd not that bleak wind's sound before,
When louder perchance it used to roar--
Never shall sound of that wintry gale
Be aught to you but a voice of wail!
So o'er the careless heart and eye
The storms of the world go sweeping by;
But oh! when once we have learn'd to weep,
Well doth sorrow his stern watch keep.
Let one of our airy joys decay--
Let one of our blossoms fade away--
And all the griefs that others share
Seem ours, as well as theirs, to bear:
And the sound of wail, like that rushing wind
Shall bring all our own deep woe to mind!
'I went through the world, but I paused not now
At the gladsome heart and the joyous brow:
I went through the world, and I stay'd to mark
Where the heart was sore, and the spirit dark:
And the grief of others, though sad to see,
Was fraught with a demon's joy to me!
'I saw the inconstant lover come to take
Farewell of her he loved in better days,
And, coldly careless, watch the heart-strings break--
Which beat so fondly at his words of praise.
She was a faded, painted, guilt-bow'd thing,
Seeking to mock the hues of early spring,
When misery and years had done their worst
[...] Read more
poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
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Yesterday's Papers
Who wants yesterdays papers
Who wants yesterdays girl
Who wants yesterdays papers
Nobody in the world
After this time I finally learned
After the pain and hurt
After all this what have I achieved
I've realized it's time to leave
Cause
Cho wants yesterdays papers
Who wants yesterdays girl
Who wants yesterdays papers
Nobody in the world
Living a life of constant change
Every day means the turn of a page
Yesterdays papers are such bad news
Same thing applies to me and you
Who wants yesterdays papers
Who wants yesterdays girl
Who wants yesterdays papers
Nobody in the world
Seems very hard to have just one girl
When there's a million in the world
All of these people just can't wait
To fall right into their big mistake
Who wants yesterdays papers
Who wants yesterdays girl
Who wants yesterdays papers
Nobody in the world
song performed by Rolling Stones from Between The Buttons
Added by Lucian Velea
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An Ode To You...
Ode those that would place their family, before their
own ambitions.
Ode, to the soul of our nation. Women. For if it is men,
that are the history, it is surely woman, that are the soul.
Ode, to those who provide, protect
and guide their loved ones.
Ode, to those that know the difference, between
compromising and belief.
Ode, to all who give their lives, in
time of war; especially the majority, for
they are mostly, from economically challenge areas.
Ode, to a rare breed of politician, who puts their
constitutes, before their political ambitions.
Ode to those that understand, that their religion is not
necessarily the one and true religion. For if that were
true, what of the billions of others, that have chosen
a religion, not likened to theirs?
Ode, to all who react, to the plight of those less fortunate.
Ode, to the parents of this world, who teach
their children the values of life and living.
Ode, to the countless millions, who give of themselves and
ask nothing in return.
Ode, to those who consciously attempt, to make this a better world.
For if we want a better world, each of us, must try and be better.
Ode, to the power, that causes words that are
lodged in the birth canal of life...to finally be born.
poem by Joe Fazio
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(dde) ...........To You...
Ode those that would place their family, before their
own ambitions.
Ode, to the soul of our nation. Women. For if it is men,
that are the history, it is surely woman, that are the soul.
Ode, to those who provide, protect and guide
their loved ones.
Ode, to those that know the difference, between
compromising and belief.
Ode, to all who give their lives, in
time of war; especially the majority, for
they are mostly, from economically challenge areas.
Ode, to a rare breed of politician, who puts their
constitutes, before their political ambitions.
Ode to those that understand, that their religion is not
necessarily the one and true religion. For if that were
true, what of the billions of others, that have chosen
a religion, not likened to theirs?
Ode, to all who react, to the plight of those less fortunate.
Ode, to the parents of this world, who teach their children
the values of life and living.
Ode, to the countless millions, who give of themselves and
ask nothing in return.
Ode, to those who consciously attempt, to make this a better world.
For if we want a better world, each of us, must try and be better.
Ode, to the power, that causes words that are lodged in the
birth canal of life...to finally be born.
poem by Joe Fazio
Added by Poetry Lover
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For One And All
Ode those that would place their family, before their
own ambitions.
Ode, to the soul of our nation. Women. For if it is men,
that are the history, it is surely woman, that are the soul.
Ode, to those who provide, protect and guide
their loved ones.
Ode, to those that know the difference, between
compromising and belief.
Ode, to all who give their lives, in
time of war; especially the majority, for
they are mostly, from economically challenge areas.
Ode, to a rare breed of politician, who puts their
constitutes, before their political ambitions.
Ode to those that understand, that their religion is not
necessarily the one and true religion. For if that were
true, what of the billions of others, that have chosen
a religion, not likened to theirs?
Ode, to all who react, to the plight of those less fortunate.
Ode, to the parents of this world, who teach their children
the values of life and living.
Ode, to the countless millions, who give of themselves and
ask nothing in return.
Ode, to those who consciously attempt, to make this a better world.
For if we want a better world, each of us, must try and be better.
Ode, to the power, that causes words that are lodged in the
birth canal of life...to finally be born.
poem by Joe Fazio
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

For...One And All
Ode those that would place their family, before their
own ambitions.
Ode, to the soul of our nation. Women. For if it is men,
that are the history, it is surely woman, that are the soul.
Ode, to those who provide, protect and guide
their loved ones.
Ode, to those that know the difference, between
compromising and belief.
Ode, to all who give their lives, in
time of war; especially the majority, for
they are mostly, from economically challenge areas.
Ode, to a rare breed of politician, who puts their
constitutes, before their political ambitions.
Ode to those that understand, that their religion is not
necessarily the one and true religion. For if that were
true, what of the billions of others, that have chosen
a religion, not likened to theirs?
Ode, to all who react, to the plight of those less fortunate.
Ode, to the parents of this world, who teach their children
the values of life and living.
Ode, to the countless millions, who give of themselves and
ask nothing in return.
Ode, to those who consciously attempt, to make this a better world.
For if we want a better world, each of us, must try and be better.
Ode, to the power, that causes words that are lodged in the
birth canal of life...to finally be born.
poem by Joe Fazio
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Here's To You...
Ode, to those that would place their family, before their
own ambitions.
Ode, to the soul of our nation. Women. For if it is men,
that are the history, it is surely woman, that are the soul.
Ode, to those who provide, protect and guide
their loved ones.
Ode, to those that know the difference, between
compromising and belief.
Ode, to all who give their lives, in
time of war; especially the majority, for
they are mostly, from economically challenge areas.
Ode, to a rare breed of politician, who puts their
constitutes, before their political ambitions.
Ode to those that understand, that their religion is not
necessarily the one and true religion. For if that were
true, what of the billions of others, that have chosen
a religion, not likened to theirs?
Ode, to all who react, to the plight of those less fortunate.
Ode, to the parents of this world, who teach their children
the values of life and living.
Ode, to the countless millions, who give of themselves and
ask nothing in return.
Ode, to those who consciously attempt, to make this a better world.
For if we want a better world, each of us, must try and be better.
Ode, to the power, that causes words that are lodged in the
birth canal of life...to finally be born.
poem by Joe Fazio
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

This...Is Life
Ode those that would place their family, before their
own ambitions.
Ode, to the soul of our nation. Women. For if it is men,
that are the history, it is surely woman, that are the soul.
Ode, to those who provide, protect and guide
their loved ones.
Ode, to those that know the difference, between
compromising and belief.
Ode, to all who give their lives, in
time of war; especially the majority, for
they are mostly, from economically challenge areas.
Ode, to a rare breed of politician, who puts their
constitutes, before their political ambitions.
Ode to those that understand, that their religion is not
necessarily the one and true religion. For if that were
true, what of the billions of others, that have chosen
a religion, not likened to theirs?
Ode, to all who react, to the plight of those less fortunate.
Ode, to the parents of this world, who teach their children
the values of life and living.
Ode, to the countless millions, who give of themselves and
ask nothing in return.
Ode, to those who consciously attempt, to make this a better world.
For if we want a better world, each of us, must try and be better.
Ode, to the power, that causes words that are lodged in the
birth canal of life...to finally be born.
poem by Joe Fazio
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

To Those Of You That Do...
Ode those that would place their family, before their
own ambitions.
Ode, to the soul of our nation. Women. For if it is men,
that are the history, it is surely woman, that are the soul.
Ode, to those who provide, protect and guide
their loved ones.
Ode, to those that know the difference, between
compromising and belief.
Ode, to all who give their lives, in
time of war; especially the majority, for
they are mostly, from economically challenge areas.
Ode, to a rare breed of politician, who puts their
constitutes, before their political ambitions.
Ode to those that understand, that their religion is not
necessarily the one and true religion. For if that were
true, what of the billions of others, that have chosen
a religion, not likened to theirs?
Ode, to all who react, to the plight of those less fortunate.
Ode, to the parents of this world, who teach their children
the values of life and living.
Ode, to the countless millions, who give of themselves and
ask nothing in return.
Ode, to those who consciously attempt, to make this a better world.
For if we want a better world, each of us, must try and be better.
Ode, to the power, that causes words that are lodged in the
birth canal of life...to finally be born.
poem by Joe Fazio
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
