Citatepedia^®.com

Jarred`s Daughter

Your wife wants:

this time it`s chickens.
So you winged a coop from wood and wire
for her birthday. You found a supplier
a farm near Ely, and the A10 fed you to The Fens.

Jarred`s Farm is a listing wreck

on a black claggy sea.
A faded wooden chicken leans,
propped and peeling by a front porch
that drips creeper in scarlet entrails.

The air is different here:

somehow sickly, like a mildewed echo
of marsh and stinging grey mist.
But it`s the sky`s bone-clinic whiteness
that quietly smothers you.

[...] Read more

poem by Bob Dellar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Book VI - Part 02 - Great Meteorological Phenomena, Etc

And so in first place, then
With thunder are shaken the blue deeps of heaven,
Because the ethereal clouds, scudding aloft,
Together clash, what time 'gainst one another
The winds are battling. For never a sound there come
From out the serene regions of the sky;
But wheresoever in a host more dense
The clouds foregather, thence more often comes
A crash with mighty rumbling. And, again,
Clouds cannot be of so condensed a frame
As stones and timbers, nor again so fine
As mists and flying smoke; for then perforce
They'd either fall, borne down by their brute weight,
Like stones, or, like the smoke, they'd powerless be
To keep their mass, or to retain within
Frore snows and storms of hail. And they give forth
O'er skiey levels of the spreading world
A sound on high, as linen-awning, stretched
O'er mighty theatres, gives forth at times
A cracking roar, when much 'tis beaten about

[...] Read more

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

Flat earth theories
strange jarred with seasons' change range
question of degrees

haiku by Jonathan Robin (20 August 2009)
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

You could put this record on and not get jarred half-way through. I wanted it to be all cut from one cloth, and that was the way we took it through the whole production process.

quote by Jules Shear
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Reflections

When I looked into your eyes,
I saw a garden
With peonies, and tinkling pagodas,
And round-arched bridges
Over still lakes.
A woman sat beside the water
In a rain-blue, silken garment.
She reached through the water
To pluck the crimson peonies
Beneath the surface,
But as she grasped the stems,
They jarred and broke into white-green ripples,
And as she drew out her hand,
The water-drops dripping from it
Stained her rain-blue dress like tears.

poem by Amy Lowell
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

A banter in my backyard

I spoke to the butterfly telling her
I saw a lizard in the middle
of April at the edge of my garden

and how it was jarred out of its
shaded lethargy by the sprinkle
issuing from my watering hose and

not the traditional mensal showers.
The butterfly flitted her wings at me
which I interpreted as meaning

don’t pull my arms, “They were
April showers weren’t they? ”
but when I looked again at the lizard

now basking on the sun-warmed rock
the butterfly was gone and I knew
what I heard was the air whispering.

poem by Alex Nodopaka (2010)
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Traces of an eternal flame

Fingers flesh out desire
Tease then set her soul on-fire.
He then traces of an eternal flame
Without anymore/ claimants
Without anymore/ resistance
She does call out his name?

Love is their torch light
Sleep, their only dark partite
Singly; they are but one.
One-starry sky, a jarred,
One-landmass; one ocean,
Underpinned like a mansard.

She is his north his east
His west and south…
Together they'll out exist.
All other chief lusts of drought
"Bract in a dripping-stem of salt
Tell, who" could find them at fault.

poem by Mark Heathcote
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

I felt my life with both my hands

351

I felt my life with both my hands
To see if it was there—
I held my spirit to the Glass,
To prove it possibler—

I turned my Being round and round
And paused at every pound
To ask the Owner's name—
For doubt, that I should know the Sound—

I judged my features—jarred my hair—
I pushed my dimples by, and waited—
If they—twinkled back—
Conviction might, of me—

I told myself, "Take Courage, Friend—
That—was a former time—
But we might learn to like the Heaven,

[...] Read more

poem by Emily Dickinson
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Sonnet II. On A Discovery Made Too Late

Thou bleedest, my poor heart! and thy distress
Reas'ning I ponder with a scornful smile
And probe thy sore wound sternly, tho' the while
Swollen be mine eye and dim with heaviness.
Why didst thou listen to Hope's whisper bland?
Or list'ning, why forget the healing tale,
When Jealousy with fev'rish fancies pale
Jarred thy fine fibres with a maniac's hand?
Faint was that Hope, and rayless!--Yet 'twas fair,
And soothed with many a dream the hour of rest:
Thou shouldst have loved it most, when most opprest,
And nursed it with an agony of care,
Even as a Mother her sweet infant heir,
That wan and sickly droops upon her breast!

poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Barbarians.

As the crinoid star-fish to the sea-base
By his stem fixed draws bare subsistence in
His straitened sphere, as in the sunless ooze
He turns on his long jointed pedicle,
So are half-bruted men, barbarian-brained,
Endued with scarce more power to see and hear
The visions and the rumours of the world,
So poorly apt to think and feel and know,
As each turns on his dark time-pivot in
A universal ignorance, as it were
Far back in the beginning of the world;
Disjointed and dismembered in the mind,
And in the spirit so confused and foul,
With no sign of truth's authenticity,
As nature in their origin had jarred
The primal tone of man.

poem by Robert Crawford
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!