A gentlemen of Beauce who stays in bed till his breeches are mended.
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Till winter
The light stays till the sun sets.
The night stays till the moon sets.
The drive stays till the ennui sets in
The pride stays till the loneliness sets in.
03.02.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Once Lonely Now Mended
A lonely heart is not something new;
A lonely heart contains only blues.
A lonely heart grows until old;
A lonely heart never unfolds.
A lonely heart is ready for doom;
A lonely heart keeps the mood gloom.
A lonely heart will never heal;
A lonely heart is like a bad card deal.
A mended heart is like one of no other;
A mended heart can be noticed by a lover.
A mended heart won’t take anymore pain;
A mended heart will shine like a flame.
A mended heart pumps love with a flow;
A mended heart beats and never lets’ go.
poem by Michael Vanderkooi
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The Huntsmen
Three jolly gentlemen,
In coats of red,
Rode their horses
Up to bed.
Three jolly gentlemen
Snored till morn,
Their horses champing
The golden corn.
Three jolly gentlemen
At break of day,
Came clitter-clatter down the stairs
And galloped away.
poem by Walter de la Mare
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Feel The Girl
[Intro Timbaland (Ms. Jaded)]
Ladies and gentlemen
Ladies and gentlemen
(Ms. Jade) Lay lay lay ladies and gentlemen
(Ms. Jade) Ladies and gentlemen
(Ms. Jade) Ladies and gentlemen
(Ms. Jade) Lay ladies and gentlemen
(Ms. Jade) Skrip skirt skrip lay lay
(Ms. Jade) La la la lay
Earr err err
[Verse 1 Ms. Jade]
Ms. Jade's the name comin' to ruin the game
Bringin' the thunder and rain
song performed by by Ms. Jade from Girl Interrupted
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If You Feed It Good
If you feed it good...
It stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
Yes.
And,
If you feed it good...
It stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
Yes,
Feed it good...
And it stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
I'm not gonna mock you anymore,
'Cause you're good to me.
You don't have to knock,
On that unlocked door.
No more...
I'll rock your needs
When we get it heated! .
Now,
If you feed it good...
It stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
Yes,
Feed it good...
It stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
Yes,
Just feed it good...
And it stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
Don't shout or scream,
To be mean and demean.
I'm not your enemy.
Nor do I owe a thing....
To ya!
You can pout with a frown,
Thinking it will bring me down.
To be around...
For your clown count!
To the ground.
But,
If you feed it good...
It stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
Yes,
Feed it real good...
It stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
Just,
Feed it good...
And it stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
Keep that in your head,
And let it feed real good!
Like it should.
Feed it good.
Keep that in your head,
And let it feed real good!
Like it should.
Feed it good.
Yes,
Feed it real good...
It stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
And,
Keep that in your head,
And let it feed real good!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sonnet 23
Be aware gentlemen I dare say
For all those sugar coated lies
Ladies will have it their way
No matter what they can be sly
Be aware all gentlemen kind
The secrets are not in her kiss
Such confusion you will find
You'll never be sure of this
Be aware gentlemen or regret
Those gentle words and woes
Never once show her neglect
For such pain you will know
Be aware gentlemen and wise
Ladies come with many surprise
poem by Suelynn Walters
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Cecily Parsley
CECILY PARSLEY
lived in a pen,
And brewed good ale
for gentlemen;
GENTLEMEN came
every day,
Till Cecily Parsley
ran away.
poem by Beatrix Potter
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A Man
I am a man as a man I've been told
Bacon is brought to the house in this mold
Born of your bellies I yearn for the cord
Years I have groveled repentance ignored
And I have been blamed
And I have repented
I'm working my way toward our union mended
I am man who has grown from a son
Been crucified by enraged women
I am son who was raised by such men
I'm often reminded of the fools I'm among
And I have been shamed
And I have relented
I'm working my way toward our union mended
And I have been shamed
And I have repented
I'm working my way toward our union mended
we don't fare well with endless reprimands
we don't do well with a life served as a sentence
this won't work well if you're hell bent on your offence
I am a man who understands your resistance
I am a man who still does what he can
to dispel our archaic reputation
I am a man who has heard all he can
cuz I don't fare well with endless punishment
Cuz I have been blamed and I have repented
I'm working my way toward our union mended
And we have been blamed and we have repented
I'm working my way toward our union mended
song performed by by Alanis Morissette from Under Rug Swept
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Come Get Me
And as a special treat this evening
I have asked America's foremost young poet
to read his latest poem for us
[scratching by DJ Premier:]
"ladies and gentlemen.."
"Na-Na-Na-Nastradamus"
"Everybody watch him"
"ladies and gentlemen.."
"Na-Na-Na-Nastradamus"
"We-we-we came a long way"
"ladies and gentlemen.."
"Na-Na-Na-Nastradamus"
"Everybody watch him"
"ladies and gentlemen.."
"Na-Na-Na-Nastradamus"
[Nas]
Yo..
Yo.. yo..
Power and crime
song performed by by NAS from Nastradamus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Suicide
And this, ladies and gentlemen, whom I am not in fact
Conducting, was his office all those minutes ago,
This man you never heard of. These are the bills
In the intray, the ash in the ashtray, the grey memoranda stacked
Against him, the serried ranks of the box-files, the packed
Jury of his unanswered correspondence
Nodding under the paperweight in the breeze
From the window by which he left; and here is the cracked
Receiver that never got mended and here is the jotter
With his last doodle which might be his own digestive tract
Ulcer and all or might be the flowery maze
Through which he had wandered deliciously till he stumbled
Suddenly finally conscious of all he lacked
On a manhole under the hollyhocks. The pencil
Point had obviously broken, yet, when he left this room
By catdrop sleight-of-foot or simple vanishing act,
To those who knew him for all that mess in the street
This man with the shy smile has left behind
Something that was intact.
poem by Louis Macneice
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When Broken, Nothing Can Be Made Anew!
A broken door can"t be made like one new;
A broken fence needs to be mended well;
A broken wall has to be rebuilt much;
A broken branch cannot be fixed again!
A broken mirror cannot be made whole;
A broken toy cannot be glued like new;
A broken home cannot be back reset;
A broken marriage can't blossom once more!
A broken heart remains anguished for long;
A broken friendship stays estranged for sure;
A broken bone may heal but weakened stays;
A broken soul struggles for want of grace!
All things when newly made look simply great!
You cannot mend life's broken slate at all!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 17-08-12
poem by John Celes
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The Golden Game
If ever there was a Golden Game
To brace the nerves, to cure repining,
To put the Dumps to flight and shame,
It's Cricket when the sun is shining!
Gentlemen, toss the foolscap by,
Gentlemen, change from books to leather!
Breathe your fill of the breeze from the hill,
Thanking Bliss for the great blue weather.
If ever there was a bag could beat
The box possessed by Miss Pandora,
'Tis that in which there cuddle neat
The tools to shape the flying Fourer.
Gentlemen, watch the purple ball!
Gentlemen, keep your wits in tether!
Take your joy with the heart of a boy
Under the dome of the big blue weather.
If ever I feel my veins abound
With zealous blood more fit for Twenty,
'Tis when upon the shaven ground
Fair Fortune gives me runs in plenty.
Gentlemen all, while sinews last,
Bat ye, bowl ye, friends together!
Play the play till the end of your day,
Mellowest mates in the big blue weather!
But ever the ancient tale is told,
And History (the jade!) repeated:
By Time, who's never over-bowled,
At last we find ourselves defeated.
Gentlemen all, though stiff we be,
Youth comes along in finest feather,
Just as keen as we all have been
Out on the turf in the great blue weather!
There's ever the deathless solace left-
To gaze at younger heroes smiting,
Of neither grit nor hope bereft,
Up to the end for victory fighting.
Gentlemen all, we taste delight,
Banished now from the stream and heather,
Calm and cool on an old camp-stool,
Watching the game in the big blue weather!
poem by Norman Rowland Gale
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An Ancient to Ancients
Where once we danced, where once we sang,
Gentlemen,
The floors are sunken, cobwebs hang,
And cracks creep; worms have fed upon
The doors. Yea, sprightlier times were then
Than now, with harps and tabrets gone,
Gentlemen!
Where once we rowed, where once we sailed,
Gentlemen,
And damsels took the tiller, veiled
Against too strong a stare (God wot
Their fancy, then or anywhen!)
Upon that shore we are clean forgot,
Gentlemen!
We have lost somewhat of that, afar and near,
Gentlemen,
The thinning of our ranks each year
Affords a hint we are nigh undone,
That shall not be ever again
The marked of many, loved of one,
Gentlemen.
In dance the polka hit our wish,
Gentlemen,
The paced quadrille, the spry schottische,
"Sir Roger."--And in opera spheres
The "Girl" (the famed "Bohemian"),
And "Trovatore" held the ears,
Gentlemen.
This season's paintings do not please,
Gentlemen
Like Etty, Mulready, Maclise;
Throbbing romance had waned and wanned;
No wizard wields the witching pen
Of Bulwer, Scott, Dumas, and Sand,
Gentlemen.
The bower we shrined to Tennyson,
Gentlemen,
Is roof-wrecked; damps there drip upon
Sagged seats, the creeper-nails are rust,
The spider is sole denizen;
Even she who voiced those rhymes is dust,
Gentlemen!
We who met sunrise sanguine-souled,
Gentlemen,
Are wearing weary. We are old;
These younger press; we feel our rout
Is imminent to Aïdes' den,--
That evening shades are stretching out,
Gentlemen!
And yet, though ours be failing frames,
Gentlemen,
So were some others' history names,
Who trode their track light-limbed and fast
As these youth, and not alien
From enterprise, to their long last,
Gentlemen.
Sophocles, Plato, Socrates,
Gentlemen,
Pythagoras, Thucydides,
Herodotus, and Homer,--yea,
Clement, Augustin, Origen,
Burnt brightlier towards their setting-day,
Gentlemen.
And ye, red-lipped and smooth-browed; list,
Gentlemen;
Much is there waits you we have missed;
Much lore we leave you worth the knowing,
Much, much has lain outside our ken;
Nay, rush not: time serves: we are going,
Gentlemen.
poem by Thomas Hardy
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There were gentlemen and there were seamen in the navy of Charles the Second. But the seamen were not gentlemen; and the gentlemen were not seamen.
quote by Thomas B. Macaulay
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Being the Self
From the stay of the Being
Emanates the river of the Self
A river that runs through the hearts
A river that runs through the faiths
From the stay of the Self
Emanates the stream of awareness
An awareness of the One
An awareness of everything
Appearing in the One
Of journey and destination
Being is the home
Of roads and the abodes
The Self is the Name
Name of the Being that stays
Stays till eternity
Stays That reality
Look at the river of life
It is the Being itself
The cause and the caused
The love and the beloved
In the stay of the Being
It is you, you …and only you
poem by Bhaswat Chakraborty
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The September Gale
I'M not a chicken; I have seen
Full many a chill September,
And though I was a youngster then,
That gale I well remember;
The day before, my kite-string snapped,
And I, my kite pursuing,
The wind whisked off my palm-leaf hat;
For me two storms were brewing!
It came as quarrels sometimes do,
When married folks get clashing;
There was a heavy sigh or two,
Before the fire was flashing,
A little stir among the clouds,
Before they rent asunder,--
A little rocking of the trees,
And then came on the thunder.
Lord! how the ponds and rivers boiled!
They seemed like bursting craters!
And oaks lay scattered on the ground
As if they were p'taters
And all above was in a howl,
And all below a clatter,
The earth was like a frying-pan,
Or some such hissing matter.
It chanced to be our washing-day,
And all our things were drying;
The storm came roaring through the lines,
And set them all a flying;
I saw the shirts and petticoats
Go riding off like witches;
I lost, ah! bitterly I wept,--
I lost my Sunday breeches!
I saw them straddling through the air,
Alas! too late to win them;
I saw them chase the clouds, as if
The devil had been in them;
They were my darlings and my pride,
My boyhood's only riches,--
"Farewell, farewell," I faintly cried,--
"My breeches! O my breeches!"
That night I saw them in my dreams,
How changed from what I knew them!
The dews had steeped their faded threads,
The winds had whistled through them!
I saw the wide and ghastly rents
Where demon claws had torn them;
A hole was in their amplest part,
As if an imp had worn them.
I have had many happy years,
And tailors kind and clever,
But those young pantaloons have gone
Forever and forever!
And not till fate has cut the last
Of all my earthly stitches,
This aching heart shall cease to mourn
My loved, my long-lost breeches!
poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
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Anyone
Anyone stays at a place
where he feels comfortable
or find no place to stay
and anyone chooses a mate,
if he wants to or can
and someone stays alone.
For the beautiful and the ugly,
little and small
and for the aged and the young
and for anyone,
the same sun and moon and stars shine
and the same seasons past.
Anyone works and sleep
and laughs and cry
and play and fight,
till the sun’s last rays
touch a life.
poem by Gert Strydom
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An Easter Song
a chess to be played
victories and losses
to be taken
like gentlemen
the game is his
an ultimate plan
to make us gentlemen
of the best kinds
like how he gives
himself to us
on the Cross
a pain, a loss,
an eternal joy
a perfect gentleman
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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A Cavalier Song
Kentish Sir Byng stood for his King,
Bidding the crop-headed Parliament swing:
And, pressing a troop unable to stoop
And see the rogues flourish and honest folk droop,
Marched them along, fifty score strong,
Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song.
God for King Charles! Pym and such carles
To the Devil that prompts 'em their treasonous parles!
Cavaliers, up! Lips from the cup,
Hands from the pasty, nor bite take nor sup
Till you're-
(Chorus)
Marching along, fifty-score strong,
Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song.
Hampden to hell, and his obsequies' knell.
Serve Hazelrig, Fiennes, and young Harry as well!
England, good cheer! Rupert is near!
Kentish and loyalists, keep we not here
(Chorus)
Marching along, fifty-score strong,
Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song?
Then, God for King Charles! Pym and his snarls
To the Devil that pricks on such pestilent carles!
Hold by the right, you double your might;
So, onward to Nottingham, fresh for the fight,
(Chorus)
March we along, fifty-score strong,
Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song!
poem by Robert Browning
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Cavalier Tunes: Marching Along
Kentish Sir Byng stood for his King,
Bidding the crop-headed Parliament swing:
And, pressing a troop unable to stoop
And see the rogues flourish and honest folk droop,
Marched them along, fifty score strong,
Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song.
God for King Charles! Pym and such carles
To the Devil that prompts 'em their treasonous parles!
Cavaliers, up! Lips from the cup,
Hands from the pasty, nor bite take nor sup
Till you're--
(Chorus)
Marching along, fifty-score strong,
Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song.
Hampden to hell, and his obsequies' knell.
Serve Hazelrig, Fiennes, and young Harry as well!
England, good cheer! Rupert is near!
Kentish and loyalists, keep we not here
(Chorus)
Marching along, fifty-score strong,
Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song?
Then, God for King Charles! Pym and his snarls
To the Devil that pricks on such pestilent carles!
Hold by the right, you double your might;
So, onward to Nottingham, fresh for the fight,
(Chorus)
March we along, fifty-score strong,
Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song!
poem by Robert Browning
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