Citatepedia^®.com

The Nicer

He intimated that he had
penultimate authority,
though never did he say so.
And what they call in television
a 'nicer', he would be
impeccably, conservatively dressed,
with matching body language
and a butterfly bow tie.

The two of us appeared to be
exchanging pleasantries,
with faces from the film called
Misery Loves Company.

And in the end, when I could feel
a dozen newly-hatched gray hairs
make their appearance, laterally
I left the temple of this moneychanger
and sniffed the air for penthouse scents.

Now at the mercy of the hands of power,
with just one task to master, only once.
It was manipulation of the thumb
and took an effort like the raising of
the battleship called Arizona.

poem by Herbert Nehrlich
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Hot Fun In The Summertime

Hot fun in the summertime
(yeah bow bow bow)
Hot fun in the summertime
(yeah yeah yeah)
End of the spring
And here she comes back
(hi hi hi hi) (yeah)
Those summer days those summer days
Thats when I had most of my fun back
(hi hi hi hi) (yeah)
Those summer days those summer days
(bow bow bow do doop)
Aww we can bum bum where we want to
(bow bow bow do doop)
Hey were out of school
(bow bow bow do doop)
County fair in the country side
(bow bow bow do doop)
And everything is cool
(bow bow bow do doop)
(bow bow bow)
(hot fun in the summertime)
We can do what we want to
(yeah bow bow bow)
(hot fun in the summertime)
Out of school
(bow bow bow)
(hot fun in the summertime)
We can do what we want to
First day of fall and there she goes back
(bye bye bye bye) (yeah)
Those summer days, those summer days
(bow bow bow do doop)
Aww we can bum bum where we want to
(bow bow bow do doop)
Hey were out of school
(bow bow bow do doop)
County fair in the country side
(bow bow bow do doop)
And everything is cool
(bow bow bow do doop)
(bow bow bow)
(hot fun in the summertime)
We can do what we want to
(yeah bow bow bow)
(hot fun in the summertime)
Out of school
(bow bow bow)
(hot fun in the summertime)
We can do what we want to

[...] Read more

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

The Odyssey: Book 21

Minerva now put it in Penelope's mind to make the suitors try
their skill with the bow and with the iron axes, in contest among
themselves, as a means of bringing about their destruction. She went
upstairs and got the store room key, which was made of bronze and
had a handle of ivory; she then went with her maidens into the store
room at the end of the house, where her husband's treasures of gold,
bronze, and wrought iron were kept, and where was also his bow, and
the quiver full of deadly arrows that had been given him by a friend
whom he had met in Lacedaemon- Iphitus the son of Eurytus. The two
fell in with one another in Messene at the house of Ortilochus,
where Ulysses was staying in order to recover a debt that was owing
from the whole people; for the Messenians had carried off three
hundred sheep from Ithaca, and had sailed away with them and with
their shepherds. In quest of these Ulysses took a long journey while
still quite young, for his father and the other chieftains sent him on
a mission to recover them. Iphitus had gone there also to try and
get back twelve brood mares that he had lost, and the mule foals
that were running with them. These mares were the death of him in
the end, for when he went to the house of Jove's son, mighty Hercules,
who performed such prodigies of valour, Hercules to his shame killed
him, though he was his guest, for he feared not heaven's vengeance,
nor yet respected his own table which he had set before Iphitus, but
killed him in spite of everything, and kept the mares himself. It
was when claiming these that Iphitus met Ulysses, and gave him the bow
which mighty Eurytus had been used to carry, and which on his death
had been left by him to his son. Ulysses gave him in return a sword
and a spear, and this was the beginning of a fast friendship, although
they never visited at one another's houses, for Jove's son Hercules
killed Iphitus ere they could do so. This bow, then, given him by
Iphitus, had not been taken with him by Ulysses when he sailed for
Troy; he had used it so long as he had been at home, but had left it
behind as having been a keepsake from a valued friend.
Penelope presently reached the oak threshold of the store room;
the carpenter had planed this duly, and had drawn a line on it so as
to get it quite straight; he had then set the door posts into it and
hung the doors. She loosed the strap from the handle of the door,
put in the key, and drove it straight home to shoot back the bolts
that held the doors; these flew open with a noise like a bull
bellowing in a meadow, and Penelope stepped upon the raised
platform, where the chests stood in which the fair linen and clothes
were laid by along with fragrant herbs: reaching thence, she took down
the bow with its bow case from the peg on which it hung. She sat
down with it on her knees, weeping bitterly as she took the bow out of
its case, and when her tears had relieved her, she went to the
cloister where the suitors were, carrying the bow and the quiver, with
the many deadly arrows that were inside it. Along with her came her
maidens, bearing a chest that contained much iron and bronze which her
husband had won as prizes. When she reached the suitors, she stood
by one of the bearing-posts supporting the roof of the cloister,
holding a veil before her face, and with a maid on either side of her.

[...] Read more

poem by Homer, translated by Samuel Butler
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Authority Song

They like to get you in a compromising position
They like to get you there and smille in your face
They think, theyre so cute when they got you in that condition
Well I think, its a total disgrace
Chorus:
I fight authority, authority always wins
I fight authority, authority always wins
I been doing it, since I was a young kid
Ive come out grinnin
I fight authority, authority always wins
So I call up my preacher
I say: gimme strenght for round 5
He said: you dont need no strength, you need to grow up, son
I said: growing up leads to growing old and then to dying,
And dying to me dont sound like all that much fun
Chorus:
I fight authority, authority always wins
I fight authority, authority always wins
I been doing it, since I was a young kid
Ive come out grinnin
I fight authority, authority always wins
I fight authority, authority always wins
I fight authority, authority always wins
I been doing it, since I was a young kid
Ive come out grinnin
I fight authority, authority always wins
Oh no
Oh no
I fight authority, authority always wins
Chorus:
I fight authority, authority always wins
I fight authority, authority always wins
I been doing it, since I was a young kid
Ive come out grinnin
I fight authority, authority always wins
I fight authority, authority always wins
I fight authority, authority always wins
I been doing it, since I was a young kid
Ive come out grinnin
I fight authority, authority always wins

song performed by John Mellencamp
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Butterfly Poems

1 wing pages of the butterfly

at the nursery
while people
are at purchase
and at transactions
a blue butterfly
comes by
and opens its pages to me
swift and quick
and it says to me:
'Read! Read!
Read my pages! '

'I can’t read, '
I say,
amused
at this brash butterfly

'Read and write!
Read and write
about me,
and all flitting butterflies
Read
and write, you silly! '
it commands

And so I read
and I copy
and these are the words
the words from those
pages
the butterfly
holds up to me

2 song of the butterfly

'butterfly
butterfly
w hy do you fly? '

I’ve got wings
I’ve got aerodynamics

[...] Read more

poem by Raj Arumugam
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Telemaniaco / Tele Maniac

Un cavernícola golpea a su amada / A caveman hits his lover
y se la lleva de los pelos a la cueva / and it takes it to him from the hair to the cave
no se preocupe no ha pasado nada / don't worry it has not passed anything
el noticiero de las nueve lo comprueba / the news report of nine o'clock checks it

Es un telemaníaco / He is a tele maniac
ama la televisión ama la televisión / He loves to watch the TV, he loves to watch the TV
ama la televisión ama la televisión / He loves to watch the TV, he loves to watch the TV

Me siento bién definitivamente / I feel so good definitively
necesitaba esa dosis de novelas / I really needed that dosis of novels
ya he llorado por cuatro horas y media / I´ve been crying for four hours and a half
ahora cambio para ver una comedia / and now I´m change to see some comedy

Es un telemaníaco / He is a tele maniac
ama la televisión ama la televisión / He loves to watch the TV, he loves to watch the TV
ama la televisión ama la televisión / He loves to watch the TV, he loves to watch the TV

Los dibujitos animados son lo máximo / The cartoons are the maximum thing
me gusta verlos una y otra vez / I like to see them an and another time
luego con mis amigotes los imito / later with my pals I imitate them
y hacemos gala de nuestra inmadurez / and we make Gallic of our immaturity

Es un telemaníaco / He is a tele maniac
ama la televisión ama la televisión / He loves to watch the TV, he loves to watch the TV
ama la televisión ama la televisión / He loves to watch the TV, he loves to watch the TV

Las heroínas buscando chicos malos / The heroines looking for bad boys
los chicos malos buscando diversión / the bad boys looking for amusement
los superhéroes volando por los cielos / the superheros flying for the skies
las chicas pierden sus ligas en el bronx / the girls lose their suspenders in the bronx

Es un telemaníaco / He is a tele maniac
ama la televisión ama la televisión / He loves to watch the TV, he loves to watch the TV
ama la televisión ama la televisión / He loves to watch the TV, he loves to watch the TV

Cómo me aburro estudiando y trabajando / How I get bored studying and working
con mis papeles y con el profesor / with my papers and with the professor
tan solo quiero volver corriendo a casa / all I want is to return running home
para sentarme frente al televisor / to sit down in front of the television

Es un telemaníaco / He is a tele maniac
ama la televisión ama la televisión / He loves to watch the TV, he loves to watch the TV

[...] Read more

poem by Ramiro 2 Burgos
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Island Fever

Do you ever get the feelin that you got to get away
Its a sympton of the fever all across the u. s. a.
My family doctor told me son the flu is what you have
But I know its island fever and I got it real bad
Hey doc I need a pain reliever
(oooo I got it bad) I got the island fever
I got it bad I got the island fever
(oooo I got it bad) I got the island fever
My baby caught it and Im not quite sure how
(oooo I got it bad) I got the island fever
She might have got it from her travel brochure now
(oooo I got it bad)
(bow bow bow ooo)
Come on baby wouldnt it be nice (bow bow bow ooo)
If I could take you down to paradise (bow bow bow ooo)
Sweet little mama gotta get away (bow bow bow ooo)
Your daddy knows a little hideaway (bow bow bow ooo)
Hey girl I got some good advice
Drive your dad mad and
Make him take you down to paradise
Ive been pickin up a love vibration
(oooo I got it bad) I got the island fever
Comin from a little island nation
(oooo I got it bad) I got the island fever
For my own self-preservation
(oooo I got it bad) I got the island fever
Better make a quick reservation
(oooo I got it bad)
(bow bow bow ooo)
Come on baby wouldnt it be nice (bow bow bow ooo)
If I could take you down to paradise (bow bow bow ooo)
Sweet little mama gotta get away (bow bow bow ooo)
Your daddy knows a little hideaway (bow bow bow ooo)
Hey girl I got some good advice
Drive your dad mad and
Make him take you down to paradise
(bow bow bow ooo)
Come on baby wouldnt it be nice (bow bow bow ooo)
If I could take you down to paradise (bow bow bow ooo)
Sweet little mama gotta get away (bow bow bow ooo)
Your daddy knows a little hideaway (bow bow bow ooo)

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

Chapel Of Love

Going to the chapel
And were gonna get married
Going to the chapel
And were gonna get married
Gee I really love you
And were gonna get married
Going to the chapel of love
(bow bow bow bow bow)
(bow bow bow bow bow)
Spring is here (ooo-ooo-ooo)
The sky is blue (sky is blue)
Birds all sing (oh the birds all sing)
Like they do (yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah)
Todays the day (wah-hooo-oooo)
Well say I do (ooo-oooo)
And well never be lonely anymore
(bow bow bow bow bow)
(bow bow bow bow bow)
Because were
Going to the chapel
And were gonna get married
Going to the chapel
And were gonna get married
Gee I really love you
And were gonna get married
Going to the chapel of love
(bow bow bow bow bow)
(bow bow bow bow bow)
Bells will ring (ri-ii-iing) (bells will ring)
The sun will shine (hey hey hey yeah) (the sun will shine)
Ill be hers (yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah) (Ill be hers)
And shell be mine (oh oh oh oh oh oh oh) (and shell be mine)
Well love until (well love until) (hey hey hey) (well love until)
The end of time (ooo hooo) (the end of time)
And well never be lonely anymore
(bow bow bow bow bow)
(bow bow bow bow bow)
Because were
Going to the chapel
And were gonna get married
Going (goin) to the chapel
And were gonna get married

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

The Tower Beyond Tragedy

I
You'd never have thought the Queen was Helen's sister- Troy's
burning-flower from Sparta, the beautiful sea-flower
Cut in clear stone, crowned with the fragrant golden mane, she
the ageless, the uncontaminable-
This Clytemnestra was her sister, low-statured, fierce-lipped, not
dark nor blonde, greenish-gray-eyed,
Sinewed with strength, you saw, under the purple folds of the
queen-cloak, but craftier than queenly,
Standing between the gilded wooden porch-pillars, great steps of
stone above the steep street,
Awaiting the King.
Most of his men were quartered on the town;
he, clanking bronze, with fifty
And certain captives, came to the stair. The Queen's men were
a hundred in the street and a hundred
Lining the ramp, eighty on the great flags of the porch; she
raising her white arms the spear-butts
Thundered on the stone, and the shields clashed; eight shining
clarions
Let fly from the wide window over the entrance the wildbirds of
their metal throats, air-cleaving
Over the King come home. He raised his thick burnt-colored
beard and smiled; then Clytemnestra,
Gathering the robe, setting the golden-sandaled feet carefully,
stone by stone, descended
One half the stair. But one of the captives marred the comeliness
of that embrace with a cry
Gull-shrill, blade-sharp, cutting between the purple cloak and
the bronze plates, then Clytemnestra:
Who was it? The King answered: A piece of our goods out of
the snatch of Asia, a daughter of the king,
So treat her kindly and she may come into her wits again. Eh,
you keep state here my queen.
You've not been the poorer for me.- In heart, in the widowed
chamber, dear, she pale replied, though the slaves
Toiled, the spearmen were faithful. What's her name, the slavegirl's?
AGAMEMNON Come up the stair. They tell me my kinsman's
Lodged himself on you.
CLYTEMNESTRA Your cousin Aegisthus? He was out of refuge,
flits between here and Tiryns.
Dear: the girl's name?
AGAMEMNON Cassandra. We've a hundred or so other
captives; besides two hundred
Rotted in the hulls, they tell odd stories about you and your
guest: eh? no matter: the ships
Ooze pitch and the August road smokes dirt, I smell like an
old shepherd's goatskin, you'll have bath-water?
CLYTEMNESTRA
They're making it hot. Come, my lord. My hands will pour it.

[...] Read more

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

Butterfly Logic

BUTTERFLY LOGIC

Butterfly logic is the intelligence of beauty. These poems represent my attempts at butterfly logic.

BUTTERFLY

the butterfly
cannot fly back
to the cocoon
he grabs thorns
from the rose
to arm himself

BUTTERFLY ANGEL

butterfly angel
soars with infinity
no rest stops
gliding from
blossom to blossom
bringing new flowers
to her fold to bloom
butterfly angel
knows
shifts into winged ecstasy
morphs into woman
touching hearts without compromise
butterfly angel
flies into infinity

MAGIC BUTTERFLY

It is the essence
of magic
for a butterfly
to be earthly
angel singing
watch her
spread wings
wide
as colors
magnificent
adorn
shadows
embrace
rainbows
and me.

[...] Read more

poem by Larry Jaffe
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Body Language

Words and music by freddie mercury
Give me body give me body body
Give me your body
Dont talk dont talk dont talk dont talk
Baby dont talk
Body language body language body language
Give me your body
Just give me yeah your body
Give me yeah your body
Dont talk
Body language huh huh
Body language body language
You got red lips snakes in your eyes
Long legs great thighs
You got the cutest ass Ive ever seen
Knock me down for a six any time
Look at me I gotta case of body language
Look at me I gotta case of body language
Look at me I gotta case of body language
Look at me I gotta case of body language
Of body language of body language
Yeah sexy body sexy sexy body
I want your body
Baby youre hot
Body language body language body language
Body language body language body language
Body language body language body language

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

Transformation Extraordinaire

For this I know, it was not so long ago I met a captivating butterfly
On its journey by and by perched this butterfly on my windowsill
Beautiful the butterfly to my eye brought a tear I dry
Every waking moment I tried to spend with my friend the butterfly for which I had fallen

Colors so great of interest I could relate to the magnificent butterfly
Day in day out time without a doubt moments spent the striking butterfly
Morning rendezvous I spent with you my gorgeous butterfly of love so true
Anything I would try for you I would die for my vivacious butterfly
Having you was paradise for things were so nice my delightful butterfly
Never showing your true colors I loved you like no other enchanted butterfly

Till that day it all went away for alterations came to the exuberant butterfly
Metamorphosed and modify to the butterfly into a dragonfly
Where went my butterfly I asked why turn I to the dragonfly
Buzzing at my ear without a care wisp the dragonfly
Messages no longer conveying, nor in one place staying, dashed the dragonfly

Time spent so rare but I still cared for the beautiful butterfly within
I saw less and less of the dragonfly busy so I cried for my transformed butterfly
Fit no longer like a pair of gloves for me the dragonfly no longer loves
Pushed to the side arms open no longer wide I wept for the revolutionized butterfly
To hard to handle and to hard to control flew the amended dragonfly away

No longer fluttering in the air, nor self aware, was my butterfly extraordinaire
And in the end the dragonfly changed again into a furious polar bear
Loss to time a love one of a kind, my stunning butterfly to the past was committed
This is a born sin for love I cannot win arrested dawn flew olden times gone by

A lesson well learned that money should be earned my tantalizing butterfly of old
A butterfly is nothing more than a bug incapable of love my eccentric butterfly
Separate paths now seeking of faith no longer believing my outrageous butterfly
These things I didn’t anticipate, nor could I relate, to rest went the troubled butterfly

I sit now and ponder, from time to time I wonder, what went wrong with my lovely butterfly?
Alone once again without my best friend, gone my love the butterfly
No more spellbound is the night, to the bear no more I shall fight for tomorrow as risen a new
On to the ever after for now gone is fun and laughter for my butterfly was nothing more than a mere dream
A vision at best, but it doesn’t mean I love you any less, for the day now draws to a silent slumber

poem by Wilfred Mellers
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Would you ever believe

WOULD YOU EVER believe if I called a nondescript table of teakwood; as a vivacious bird soaring high in the sky,

Would you ever believe if I called a ruffled sheet of paper; as a chunk of glittering gold,

Would you ever believe if I called a grandiloquent watch embodied with diamonds; as a lump of bedraggled stone,

Would you ever believe if I called a mountain of compacted mud; as a switchboard of pugnacious electricity,

Would you ever believe if I called a resplendent rainbow in the sky; as a broomstick with incongruous bristles,

Would you ever believe if I called a rusty canister of dilapidated iron; as a mesmerizing rose growing in the garden,

Would you ever believe if I called a pink tablet of luxury soap; as a mosquito hovering acrimoniously in the cloistered room,

Would you ever believe if I called a boat rollicking merrily on the undulating waves; as a rustic jungle spider,

Would you ever believe if I called a valley profusely embedded with snow; as an unscrupulous dog on the street,

Would you ever believe if I called a pair of luscious lips; as a disdainfully fetid shoe,

Would you ever believe if I called a fluorescent rod of light; as a jagged bush of cactus growing in the sweltering desert,

Would you ever believe if I called the blazing sun; as a pudgy bar of delectable chocolate,
Would you ever believe if I called an angular sculptured bone; as acid bubbling in a swanky bottle,

Would you ever believe if I called a scintillating oyster; as an inarticulate matchstick coated with lead,

Would you ever believe if I called a cluster of bells jingling from the ceiling; as a sordid cockroach philandering beside the lavatory seat,

Would you ever believe if I called a fruit of succulent coconut; as a dead mans morbid tooth,

Would you ever believe If I called a steaming cup of filter coffee; as gaudily colored water emanating from the street fountains,

Would you ever believe if I called the majestic statue of a revered historian; as a slab of tangy peanut butter,

Would you ever believe if I called a vibrant shirt; as a protuberant pigeon discerningly pecking its beak at grains scattered on the floor,

Would you ever believe if I called a flocculent bud of cotton; as a camouflaged lizard transgressing through wild projections of grass,

Would you ever believe if I called a photograph depicting the steep gorges; as a gutter inundated with obnoxious sewage,

Would you ever believe if I called a lanky giraffe; as a convict nefariously lurking through solitary streets of the city,

Would you ever believe if I called a pair of flamboyant sunglasses; as a weird tattoo to be adhered to the chest,

Would you ever believe if I called a chicken’s egg; as logs of sooty charcoal abundantly stashed in the colossal warehouse,

Would you ever believe if I called a biscuit replete with golden honey; as a ominously slithering reptile in the jungles,

Would you ever believe if I called a bald man possessing a profoundly tonsured scalp; as a gas balloon floating in insipid air,

[...] Read more

poem by Nikhil Parekh
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Bow Ramdas, Bow, Before Rainbow Of Truth!

Bow Ramdas bow,
Bow like a bow,
bow before Truth,
Bow before its rainbow,
Bow before the beauty of heart!

Bow Ramdas, bow
Bow before Truth,
Bow before wisdom's rainbow,
Bow before beauty of self!

Bow Ramdas bow,
Bow before nature,
May be temporal or devine,
Wherever Truth shine,
May in the eyes of a child,
Or rainbow in eyes of a lover,
Bow before all life,
Where eternal Truth shines!

Bow Ramdas, bow,
May be you are wise,
Or may be you fool,
That doesn't matter when you bow,
Bow before Truth!

Bow Ramdas, bow,
You are the truth,
Yet not an absolute,
you needn't bow before anyone,
If bow with patience to duties,
Bow now and then,
strong will be your Own neck and waist,
they can bear you head weight,
Or support Your head well!

Bow Ramdas, bow,
bow before mindful thoughts,
Mindfullness is carefullness,
Mindedness is not carelessness,
May be your carelessness,
Cause absent mindedness!

Bow Ramdas, bow,
Life is God's rainbow,
May be people standing in row,
Or may be a boatman, his boat and row,
May be river or lake,
May be sea or ocean,
May be cloudless sky,

[...] Read more

poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

VI. Giuseppe Caponsacchi

Answer you, Sirs? Do I understand aright?
Have patience! In this sudden smoke from hell,—
So things disguise themselves,—I cannot see
My own hand held thus broad before my face
And know it again. Answer you? Then that means
Tell over twice what I, the first time, told
Six months ago: 't was here, I do believe,
Fronting you same three in this very room,
I stood and told you: yet now no one laughs,
Who then … nay, dear my lords, but laugh you did,
As good as laugh, what in a judge we style
Laughter—no levity, nothing indecorous, lords!
Only,—I think I apprehend the mood:
There was the blameless shrug, permissible smirk,
The pen's pretence at play with the pursed mouth,
The titter stifled in the hollow palm
Which rubbed the eyebrow and caressed the nose,
When I first told my tale: they meant, you know,
"The sly one, all this we are bound believe!
"Well, he can say no other than what he says.
"We have been young, too,—come, there's greater guilt!
"Let him but decently disembroil himself,
"Scramble from out the scrape nor move the mud,—
"We solid ones may risk a finger-stretch!
And now you sit as grave, stare as aghast
As if I were a phantom: now 't is—"Friend,
"Collect yourself!"—no laughing matter more—
"Counsel the Court in this extremity,
"Tell us again!"—tell that, for telling which,
I got the jocular piece of punishment,
Was sent to lounge a little in the place
Whence now of a sudden here you summon me
To take the intelligence from just—your lips!
You, Judge Tommati, who then tittered most,—
That she I helped eight months since to escape
Her husband, was retaken by the same,
Three days ago, if I have seized your sense,—
(I being disallowed to interfere,
Meddle or make in a matter none of mine,
For you and law were guardians quite enough
O' the innocent, without a pert priest's help)—
And that he has butchered her accordingly,
As she foretold and as myself believed,—
And, so foretelling and believing so,
We were punished, both of us, the merry way:
Therefore, tell once again the tale! For what?
Pompilia is only dying while I speak!
Why does the mirth hang fire and miss the smile?
My masters, there's an old book, you should con
For strange adventures, applicable yet,

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Book III - Part 03 - The Soul is Mortal

Now come: that thou mayst able be to know
That minds and the light souls of all that live
Have mortal birth and death, I will go on
Verses to build meet for thy rule of life,
Sought after long, discovered with sweet toil.
But under one name I'd have thee yoke them both;
And when, for instance, I shall speak of soul,
Teaching the same to be but mortal, think
Thereby I'm speaking also of the mind-
Since both are one, a substance interjoined.

First, then, since I have taught how soul exists
A subtle fabric, of particles minute,
Made up from atoms smaller much than those
Of water's liquid damp, or fog, or smoke,
So in mobility it far excels,
More prone to move, though strook by lighter cause
Even moved by images of smoke or fog-
As where we view, when in our sleeps we're lulled,
The altars exhaling steam and smoke aloft-
For, beyond doubt, these apparitions come
To us from outward. Now, then, since thou seest,
Their liquids depart, their waters flow away,
When jars are shivered, and since fog and smoke
Depart into the winds away, believe
The soul no less is shed abroad and dies
More quickly far, more quickly is dissolved
Back to its primal bodies, when withdrawn
From out man's members it has gone away.
For, sure, if body (container of the same
Like as a jar), when shivered from some cause,
And rarefied by loss of blood from veins,
Cannot for longer hold the soul, how then
Thinkst thou it can be held by any air-
A stuff much rarer than our bodies be?

Besides we feel that mind to being comes
Along with body, with body grows and ages.
For just as children totter round about
With frames infirm and tender, so there follows
A weakling wisdom in their minds; and then,
Where years have ripened into robust powers,
Counsel is also greater, more increased
The power of mind; thereafter, where already
The body's shattered by master-powers of eld,
And fallen the frame with its enfeebled powers,
Thought hobbles, tongue wanders, and the mind gives way;
All fails, all's lacking at the selfsame time.
Therefore it suits that even the soul's dissolved,
Like smoke, into the lofty winds of air;

[...] Read more

poem by Lucretius
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Fourth Book

THEY met still sooner. 'Twas a year from thence
When Lucy Gresham, the sick semptress girl,
Who sewed by Marian's chair so still and quick,
And leant her head upon the back to cough
More freely when, the mistress turning round,
The others took occasion to laugh out,–
Gave up a last. Among the workers, spoke
A bold girl with black eyebrows and red lips,–
'You know the news? Who's dying, do you think?
Our Lucy Gresham. I expected it
As little as Nell Hart's wedding. Blush not, Nell,
Thy curls be red enough without thy cheeks;
And, some day, there'll be found a man to dote
On red curls.–Lucy Gresham swooned last night,
Dropped sudden in the street while going home;
And now the baker says, who took her up
And laid her by her grandmother in bed,
He'll give her a week to die in. Pass the silk.
Let's hope he gave her a loaf too, within reach,
For otherwise they'll starve before they die,
That funny pair of bedfellows! Miss Bell,
I'll thank you for the scissors. The old crone
Is paralytic–that's the reason why
Our Lucy's thread went faster than her breath,
Which went too quick, we all know. Marian Erle!
Why, Marian Erle, you're not the fool to cry?
Your tears spoil Lady Waldemar's new dress,
You piece of pity!'
Marian rose up straight,
And, breaking through the talk and through the work,
Went outward, in the face of their surprise,
To Lucy's home, to nurse her back to life
Or down to death. She knew by such an act,
All place and grace were forfeit in the house,
Whose mistress would supply the missing hand
With necessary, not inhuman haste,
And take no blame. But pity, too, had dues:
She could not leave a solitary soul
To founder in the dark, while she sate still
And lavished stitches on a lady's hem
As if no other work were paramount.
'Why, God,' thought Marian, 'has a missing hand
This moment; Lucy wants a drink, perhaps.
Let others miss me! never miss me, God!'

So Marian sat by Lucy's bed, content
With duty, and was strong, for recompense,
To hold the lamp of human love arm-high
To catch the death-strained eyes and comfort them,
Until the angels, on the luminous side

[...] Read more

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

VII. Pompilia

I am just seventeen years and five months old,
And, if I lived one day more, three full weeks;
'T is writ so in the church's register,
Lorenzo in Lucina, all my names
At length, so many names for one poor child,
—Francesca Camilla Vittoria Angela
Pompilia Comparini,—laughable!
Also 't is writ that I was married there
Four years ago: and they will add, I hope,
When they insert my death, a word or two,—
Omitting all about the mode of death,—
This, in its place, this which one cares to know,
That I had been a mother of a son
Exactly two weeks. It will be through grace
O' the Curate, not through any claim I have;
Because the boy was born at, so baptized
Close to, the Villa, in the proper church:
A pretty church, I say no word against,
Yet stranger-like,—while this Lorenzo seems
My own particular place, I always say.
I used to wonder, when I stood scarce high
As the bed here, what the marble lion meant,
With half his body rushing from the wall,
Eating the figure of a prostrate man—
(To the right, it is, of entry by the door)
An ominous sign to one baptized like me,
Married, and to be buried there, I hope.
And they should add, to have my life complete,
He is a boy and Gaetan by name—
Gaetano, for a reason,—if the friar
Don Celestine will ask this grace for me
Of Curate Ottoboni: he it was
Baptized me: he remembers my whole life
As I do his grey hair.

All these few things
I know are true,—will you remember them?
Because time flies. The surgeon cared for me,
To count my wounds,—twenty-two dagger-wounds,
Five deadly, but I do not suffer much—
Or too much pain,—and am to die to-night.

Oh how good God is that my babe was born,
—Better than born, baptized and hid away
Before this happened, safe from being hurt!
That had been sin God could not well forgive:
He was too young to smile and save himself.
When they took two days after he was born,
My babe away from me to be baptized
And hidden awhile, for fear his foe should find,—

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Grief Promise Me To Leave ' Part 2

“”After three months of lying and illusions””

GRIEF PROMISE ME TO LEAVE ' PART 2’

My heart: come back to me grief
My grief: I’m not grief any more I developed to MISERY
My heart: whatever just come?
My misery: I’m coming my friend
My heart: you were right
My misery: as I told you before but you won't believe me
My heart: I believe in you now
My misery with a 'happy tone': tell me what's happened
My heart: what should I tell you! ? I’m stupid.... I’m foolish
My misery: I agree cause every one think in his heart he is big idiot and you are idiot
My heart: she destroyed my soul
My misery: like always
My heart: I don't want that any more
My misery: what do you want?
My heart: I wanna death
My misery: not in your hand, it's our life happiness & sadness
My heart: but my life always painful, what should I do, may I blame the fate or what?
My misery: no, blame your self? You were so nice toy in other hands you are idiot, so blame yourself.
My heart: she lied to me, she gave me hope, life and happiness in months and toke it from me in a little moments.
My misery: that's because of your kindness, and there is no place for you in this world.
My heart: you are the only one who can understand me well.
My misery: I know that cause we borne together.

'My misery thinking'

My misery: you shouldn't keep moving in your life
My heart: I know! ?
My heart: I just wanna the honest from her not anything else
My misery: you won't get it
My heart: she thought me a little nice toy in her hands
My misery: with all my regret, you were and you will still always

‘My heart thinking about ending his misery’

‘My heart saw a knife near from him, he carry it to suicide and end his cruel life’
My misery ' with happy voice ': what you doing?
My heart: I can't be idiot anymore, cause I believed in something silly doesn’t existed ' love '.
My misery: you are right.
My heart: I’m sorry for keeping you away from me.
My misery: its ok, as I told you before, something from me will still inside you.
My heart: you are my faithful friend.
My misery: we had borne together.

[...] Read more

poem by Damn Angel
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

V. Count Guido Franceschini

Thanks, Sir, but, should it please the reverend Court,
I feel I can stand somehow, half sit down
Without help, make shift to even speak, you see,
Fortified by the sip of … why, 't is wine,
Velletri,—and not vinegar and gall,
So changed and good the times grow! Thanks, kind Sir!
Oh, but one sip's enough! I want my head
To save my neck, there's work awaits me still.
How cautious and considerate … aie, aie, aie,
Nor your fault, sweet Sir! Come, you take to heart
An ordinary matter. Law is law.
Noblemen were exempt, the vulgar thought,
From racking; but, since law thinks otherwise,
I have been put to the rack: all's over now,
And neither wrist—what men style, out of joint:
If any harm be, 't is the shoulder-blade,
The left one, that seems wrong i' the socket,—Sirs,
Much could not happen, I was quick to faint,
Being past my prime of life, and out of health.
In short, I thank you,—yes, and mean the word.
Needs must the Court be slow to understand
How this quite novel form of taking pain,
This getting tortured merely in the flesh,
Amounts to almost an agreeable change
In my case, me fastidious, plied too much
With opposite treatment, used (forgive the joke)
To the rasp-tooth toying with this brain of mine,
And, in and out my heart, the play o' the probe.
Four years have I been operated on
I' the soul, do you see—its tense or tremulous part—
My self-respect, my care for a good name,
Pride in an old one, love of kindred—just
A mother, brothers, sisters, and the like,
That looked up to my face when days were dim,
And fancied they found light there—no one spot,
Foppishly sensitive, but has paid its pang.
That, and not this you now oblige me with,
That was the Vigil-torment, if you please!
The poor old noble House that drew the rags
O' the Franceschini's once superb array
Close round her, hoped to slink unchallenged by,—
Pluck off these! Turn the drapery inside out
And teach the tittering town how scarlet wears!
Show men the lucklessness, the improvidence
Of the easy-natured Count before this Count,
The father I have some slight feeling for,
Who let the world slide, nor foresaw that friends
Then proud to cap and kiss their patron's shoe,
Would, when the purse he left held spider-webs,
Properly push his child to wall one day!

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Butterfly...

Butterfly...my all..my own, Butterfly

My butterfly, I remember the
day we met. You bumped into me.
Well, sort of floated, from no where,
and from that moment, I recall what
I said, 'Well, my little butterfly,
where did you come from.?

Butterfly, you laughed, and responded,
'I picked you out, and just floated down,
and landed on your shoulder.

Butterfly, there are many that think
that a Butterfly, can't laugh, but you did.

They think that a Butterfly, does not cry,
but you have.

Can a Butterfly be happy, cause happiness?
Butterfly, of mine...you did.

Can a Butterfly, caused one to nearly burst
with joy? Butterfly, you did and you have.

Butterfly, there is not a moment, since I
met you, that I can not recall.

Some might wonder what a butterfly, drinks.
Butterfly, shall we let them know, we became
intoxicated, as we sipped the nectar of life.

As my butterfly and I floated through the
wonders of earth, I wish we could share the
joy we found, with all of this planet.

Butterfly, shall we always be together?
Butterfly, I do not mean, just here on
earth, I mean until the stars stop shinning.
Butterfly, I mean, until there is no moon...
no anything, but my Butterfly and I.

Butterfly...I think that we will. Butterfly,
I believe that we were meant to be.

poem by Joe Fazio
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!