Quotes about encore, page 8
Revelations
if God wishes to extend
the time before he unleashes
the adagio, can anybody help it?
there is a larger game than life
and he knows all the best rules
we are meant to play along with him
and acquiece with the applause and
thunderous encore he seeks
some revelations are spposed to
be greeted with witheld tears as we
finally get the answer of our call
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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New Song
All that heaven will allow
is an appreciation
of time spent on earth
it's learning to fall
and getting up to begin again
Been a long time
trying to trust your instincts
while you dare to dream
under the sea
it remains to last
[...] Read more
poem by Shai Cherry
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Lied
Dors lentement avec des rêves
Légers de l’air pur respiré
Le long des rives fraternelles
Où nos pas doubles ont erré.
Dors doucement avec des songes
Parfumés des fleurs du chemin
Qui ce soir encore dans l’ombre
Sont odorantes de tes mains.
Dors seule en rêve avec toi-même.
Sois ton propre songe ; il n’est pas
D’autre couronne pour ta tête
Que le cercle nu de tes bras.
poem by Henri de Regnier
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F o x... In... B r a s s...
Tawny beige, young crystal fox...
she carries her arrogance well,
poisingly... 'pon narrowed shag,
plush, wine-deep burgandy.
No Gaultier Catwalk,
this be prologue
to an attitude dripping
hubrisly,
poutingly;
so damn angrily,
thickly fulfilingly -
strutting toe o'er toe -
yet with masked self-woe... such paradox.
No, Dramas' never seen the likes of her before,
All rise for her gala Brass encore!
poem by Frank James Ryan Jr.
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Le coucher du soleil
Si j'ose comparer le déclin de ma vie
A ton coucher sublime, ô Soleil ! je t'envie.
Ta gloire peut sombrer, le retour en est sûr :
Elle renaît immense avec l'immense azur.
De ton sanglant linceul tout le ciel se colore,
Et le regard funèbre où luit ton dernier feu,
Ce regard sombre et doux, dont tu couves encore
Le lys que ta ferveur a fait naguère éclore,
Est triste infiniment, mais n'est pas un adieu.
poem by Rene Francois Armand Prudhomme
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From An Audience Watching The Best Ballet Dancer
' perfect! excellent!
Dido the best ballet
dancer in this country
was once a man,
converted into a
woman by science
and adopted by us
as part of the feminine
universe.
and it does not matter
if he/she is a pervert.
she/he is an artist.
and she/he is loved
by this government
this world
this universe
this sexless universe
perverted and yet
[...] Read more
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Cricket Ballad
Smooth green hills just short of touching the sky
White plastic fences seeming to try and out run the hills
Beautiful beast’s hooves pounding silently on the green as they play
The horse house set low down the hill near the sparkling cricks
Smell of manure and the sweet alfalfa
Drift up the hill to the porch wrapped palace of white
The crickets harmoniously sing their ballad
And the wooden porch seat swings gently in the breeze as if to plead, “Encore.”
poem by Jessica Burger
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Toujours Ce Souvenir M’Attendrit
Toujours ce souvenir m'attendrit et me touche,
Quand lui-même, appliquant la flûte sur ma bouche,
Riant et m'asseyant sur lui, près de son coeur,
M'appelant son rival et déjà son vainqueur,
Il façonnait ma lèvre inhabile et peu sûre
A souffler une haleine harmonieuse et pure;
Et ses savantes mains prenaient mes jeunes doigts,
Les levaient, les baissaient, recommençaient vingt fois,
Leur enseignant ainsi, quoique faibles encore,
A fermer tour à tour les trous du buis sonore.
poem by Andre Marie de Chenier
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Hearts Apart
One blink, a single breath separates you and i,
I weep, never imagined i possessed so many tears
you lie six feet under, our soul disjointed.
You have taken all of me, why not too this heart?
It lies with me, void, consumed by mysery
its every beat, a grasp at fading memory.
Everyone tells me that time heals all, even you.
When we meet in another life, pass past me,
For my spirit will not survive an encore of this.
On that day, forgive me for breathing without you,
Goodbye forever; rest in peace.
poem by Isunge Mwangase
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The creator's struggle
The uneven shadows
of a ghastly nightmare
cast their indescretions
upon my silently closed eyes.
The poignant pointlessnesses
of the unexpressed emotions
surface in my eye-pupils
and their glistening encore
gets lost,
in the tremendousness
of the mist of irony.
I grope in despair,
at the hidden archives
of my being,
and come up with a painful pang
of abstract unexpression
which might be the birth-root
of all this enormous creation.
[...] Read more
poem by Sarvesh Kulkarni
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