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In A Castle

I

Over the yawning chimney hangs the fog. Drip -- hiss -- drip -- hiss --
fall the raindrops on the oaken log which burns, and steams,
and smokes the ceiling beams. Drip -- hiss -- the rain never stops.

The wide, state bed shivers beneath its velvet coverlet. Above, dim,
in the smoke, a tarnished coronet gleams dully. Overhead hammers and chinks
the rain. Fearfully wails the wind down distant corridors, and there comes
the swish and sigh of rushes lifted off the floors. The arras blows sidewise
out from the wall, and then falls back again.

It is my lady's key, confided with much nice cunning, whisperingly.
He enters on a sob of wind, which gutters the candles almost to swaling.
The fire flutters and drops. Drip -- hiss -- the rain never stops.
He shuts the door. The rushes fall again to stillness along the floor.
Outside, the wind goes wailing.

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poem by Amy Lowell
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Paradise Lost: Book 10

Mean while the heinous and despiteful act
Of Satan, done in Paradise; and how
He, in the serpent, had perverted Eve,
Her husband she, to taste the fatal fruit,
Was known in Heaven; for what can 'scape the eye
Of God all-seeing, or deceive his heart
Omniscient? who, in all things wise and just,
Hindered not Satan to attempt the mind
Of Man, with strength entire and free will armed,
Complete to have discovered and repulsed
Whatever wiles of foe or seeming friend.
For still they knew, and ought to have still remembered,
The high injunction, not to taste that fruit,
Whoever tempted; which they not obeying,
(Incurred what could they less?) the penalty;
And, manifold in sin, deserved to fall.
Up into Heaven from Paradise in haste
The angelick guards ascended, mute, and sad,
For Man; for of his state by this they knew,
Much wondering how the subtle Fiend had stolen

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poem by John Milton
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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.

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poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
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Polly puts the kettle on

Polly puts the kettle on
Snakes rattle on insane
Round the kettle rattle on
All she puts is in vain

Polly bottles water deep
The taps mocks her ‘bravo’
But water steam stubborn peeps
The dishes clatter NO

‘The steam’s too high
Up on a ceiling
It winds too nigh
To a broken feeling’

‘What’ asks Polly
‘Hiss’ say snakes
‘What’s at stake
When kettles break? ’

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poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Alliteration of the sea sick sea snake

Using the softly-softly
Hissing style of the silent
Internet fanged smiling serpent
A sea sick snake hisses
Himself to his serpent lover's
House in the sea hotel of the sea
And where sea sick snakes meet
Sea deep sinful lies are told
And the hungry haggard looking
Sea snake has starved himself
To look lean and hungry and angry
And famished and in banishment
'My love'he hisses in her ear
'I must leave the leaky deep
Foamy shaky shark infested sea
Don't worry lovey-dovey and weep
And scream and hiss...I am going
To the mines and the kitchens
And the mansions to work for you'
The sea sick snake says with

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poem by Ngaka Motaung
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Snakes

Listen to them hiss and rattle!
Snakes in fear...
A way of life comes to a close.
And from under rocks...
They've been shakened and shocked,
From their comfort zones.

Listen to them hiss and rattle!
Snakes awakened,
Feeling threatened...
But certainly not mistaken.
For a diminished way of life,
Too many for too long have condoned!

A venom inflicted,
Now comes to afflict them.
No longer can they sting and bite.
In sight they are now for everyone to see...
Just how desperate,
Snakes can be.

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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Death comes to wedding

Truth has been loitering around her like a devil's advocate.
Found its alighting on her singular day
It came out and cleft her up
Like a walnut under elephant foot

She looks at me with her eyes
Like two full moons fading in the clouds
Swayed side to side like a young palm tree on windy day
The sky was filled with a loud hiss
She converged all the sorts of sobs

Fell on a ground like an animal ready for lion's lunch
The attendants instigated weeping and wailing
As if her hiss was a song
Until they had furrows of tears in their cheeks
Like it was aftermath of her funeral

Jilted on her wedding
That's the Truth that smite.
To me! It was like bloody meat in the lion's teeth

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poem by Jacques Sprenkie Mateya
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A Ballad of Aberdeen (Mild Green Vipers)

The mild green vipers of Aberdeen
Are often heard but seldom seen.
They hiss like a kettle when it boils
And crush small rodents in their coils,

They slither through the summer grasses
Invisible to whoever passes,
Few mortal folk have ever seen
The mild green vipers of Aberdeen,

But many hear their wicked hiss
And shake in terror because of this.
You'll never guess where they have been
Unless you ask the Scottish Queen.

She'll smile and tell you very slowly
In the name of all that is Pure and Holy
That nothing lives that's so obscene
As the mild green vipers of Aberdeen.

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poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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The Copperheads

Who are the men that clamor most
Against the war, its cause and cost,
And who Jeff Davis sometimes toast?
The Copperheads.

Who, when by wretched whiskey tight,
Hiss out in rage their venomed spite,
Who crawl and sting, but never fight?
The Copperheads.

Who hold peace meetings, where they pass
Lengthy resolves of wind and gas,
Much like the bray of Balaam's ass?
The Copperheads.

Who, when false faction is forgot,
When patriots keep a common thought,
Have discord and dissension taught?
The Copperheads.

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poem by Anonymous Americas
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~ Recipe Of My First Kiss ~

RECIPE OF MY FIRST KISS
Ms. Nivedita
UK.
26.11.09.

‘Why you’,
Dame says,
‘Fear hiss
In first kiss? ’

~ DAME RECIPING ~

[1] Recipe of
Lip-Lock liquor
Brewing in
5 square centimeter
Lip arena beaut emitter.

[2] Adding: ~
Pentabyte of evocation,

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poem by Ms. Nivedita Bagchi Spc. Uk.
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