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The Dance At Darmstadt

In the city of Darmstadt, the Sabbath morn
Shone over the broad Cathedral Square,
And to nobly, richly, and lowly born,
The belfry carilloned call to prayer.

Then banker, and burgher, and learn'd in law,
With clean-cut forehead and firm-set jaw,
Master, and prentice, and tradesman trim,
Pikemen stalwart of port and limb,
Pledged to die for their native town,
Scholars stately in cap and gown,
Splendid and simple, halt and hale,
Rosy tapster and student pale,
Stepped from their thresholds, and gravely trod
The streets that lead to the House of God.
And, hurrying after them, maid and dame,
Wives, and daughters, and sweethearts, came,
All in their Sabbath best arrayed,
Delicate ribbon and dainty braid,
Creaseless corset and kirtle clean,

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poem by Alfred Austin
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Audacious ribald: your laughter will finish in hideous boredom before morning.

George Bernard Shaw in Man and Superman
Added by Lucian Velea
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On His Own Face In A Glass

O strange face there in the glass!
O ribald company, O saintly host,
O sorrow-swept my fool,
What answer? O ye myriad
That strive? and play and pass,
Jest, challenge, counterlie!
I? I? I?
And ye?

poem by Ezra Pound
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The Hill Pines Were Sighing

The hill pines were sighing,
O'ercast and chill was the day:
A mist in the valley lying
Blotted the pleasant May.

But deep in the glen's bosom
Summer slept in the fire
Of the odorous gorse-blossom
And the hot scent of the brier.

A ribald cuckoo clamoured,
And out of the copse the stroke
Of the iron axe that hammered
The iron heart of the oak.

Anon a sound appalling,
As a hundred years of pride
Crashed, in the silence falling;
And the shadowy pine-trees sighed.

poem by Robert Seymour Bridges
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Crying Rain

Sea of rain falls
Quiet hour is all mine
Thunder in the distance
Love is in the winds
It gathers then ebbs
Dogs hide under the bed
Children sleep with mother
It mixes with the ribald night
Unconscious as a new ghost
Vivacious and wild
How lucky I am to enjoy it
Edgar Allen Poe revels
Stormy eyes of worldly delight
Delirious and sanguine desire
Light the candles
Censure all sophistry
A storm is so sensual
Repent of your wickedness
Earth is washed like a wedding
Lightening flashes behind the pines

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poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Kiss On The Hand

Ribald timeless silver blade
Azure handle of pearl
I am the marble
The green jade
Formed into sacred temples
Temples of golden lamps
Love makes kings kneel

Silk caravans
Sleep on islands of lava
Blue earth on fire
Jupiter a navel jewel
The soft candle of night
Her hair cascades like dreams
Palm trees sway in moonlight

Caressed like a Monet canvass
Dross burned in the heart of beauty
Vermeer paints the blue earring
Purity the ideal of saints

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poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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The Crepescule of Football Games

Transformed into
The petroglyphs
Before the songbirds who
Are out for no reason,
Dancing winged-
Songs stirred for the
Absence of housewives
With no more reason to
Love me;
The earth pushed a little,
Displaced from its godhoods
And toward catastrophe-
Dying a little the way the
Forest of angels
Drink sea salt- talk up
A little around
Graveyards- underneath power lines-
Why the sky is all blue
A little
F$cked up- punched in the face,

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poem by Bret R. Crabrooke
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On the Road to Chorrera

Three horsemen galloped the dusty way
While sun and moon were both in the sky;
An old crone crouched in the cactus' shade,
And craved an alms as they rode by.
A friendless hag she seemed to be,
But the queen of a bandit crew was she.

One horseman tossed her a scanty dole,
A scoffing couplet the second trolled;
But the third, from his blue eyes frank and free,
No glance vouchsafed the beldam old;
As toward the sunset and the sea,
No evil fearing, rode the three.

A curse she gave for the pittance small,
A gibe for the couplet 's ribald word;
But that which once had been her heart
At sight of the silent horseman stirred:
And safe through the ambushed band they speed
For the sake of the rider who would not heed!

poem by Arlo Bates
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My Cross

I wrote a poem to the moon
But no one noticed it;
Although I hoped that late or soon
Someone would praise a bit
Its purity and grace forlone,
Its beauty tulip-cool...
But as my poem died still-born,
I felt a fool.

I wrote a verse of vulgar trend
Spiced with an oath or two;
I tacked a snapper at the end
And called it Dan McGrew.
I spouted it to bar-room boys,
Full fifty years away;
Yet still with rude and ribald noise
It lives today.

'Tis bitter truth, but there you are-
That's how a name is made;

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poem by Robert William Service
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Infuse Life To Fly

The poet can take particle to the sky
And may infuse life in death to fly
Vicious verse will declare him a sly.

As long as there is glow in the sun
Poetry will keep the lives full of fun
Lovers of poetry exclaim “Well done! ”

Mind your words are lovely dark and deep
Welfare of the human beings do keep
Lofty thoughts of no use if sigh and weep

Mind over words as mirror of your thought
Vision, mission or poison have wrought
Let your readers never feel thoughts were bought

Vice or virtue boldly mark your verse
Metaphor or similes utter in terse
Grand style with cynicism is source of curse

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poem by Shujaat Hussain
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