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Costly
Costly life costly time
Truth is costly life is costly.
No one can say
The exact cost of life
No one can investigate
What is life
No one can speak
Bare truth of life
No one can
No one can.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Braid Claith
Ye wha are fain to hae your name
Wrote in the bonny book of fame,
Let merit nae pretension claim
To laurel'd wreath,
But hap ye weel, baith back and wame,
In gude Braid Claith.
He that some ells o' this may fa,
An' slae-black hat on pow like snaw,
Bids bauld to bear the gree awa',
Wi' a' this graith,
Whan bienly clad wi' shell fu' braw
O' gude Braid Claith.
Waesuck for him wha has na fek o't!
For he's a gowk they're sure to geck at,
A chiel that ne'er will be respekit
While he draws breath,
Till his four quarters are bedeckit
Wi' gude Braid Claith.
On Sabbath-days the barber spark,
When he has done wi' scrapin wark,
Wi' siller broachie in his sark,
Gangs trigly, faith!
Or to the meadow, or the park,
In gude Braid Claith.
Weel might ye trow, to see them there,
That they to shave your haffits bare,
Or curl an' sleek a pickly hair,
Wou'd be right laith,
Whan pacing wi' a gawsy air
In gude Braid Claith.
If only mettl'd stirrah green
For favour frae a lady's ein,
He maunna care for being seen
Before he sheath
His body in a scabbard clean
O' gude Braid Claith.
For, gin he come wi' coat threadbare,
A feg for him she winna care,
But crook her bonny mou' fu' sair,
And scald him baith.
Wooers shou'd ay their travel spare
Without Braid Claith.
Braid Claith lends fock an unco heese,
Makes mony kail-worms butterflies,
Gies mony a doctor his degrees
For little skaith:
In short, you may be what you please
Wi' gude Braid Claith.
For thof ye had as wise a snout on
As Shakespeare or Sir Isaac Newton,
Your judgment fouk wou'd hae a doubt on,
I'll tak my aith,
Till they cou'd see ye wi' a suit on
O' gude Braid Claith.
poem by Robert Fergusson
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And, perhaps most importantly, regional conflicts will again and again confront us with a cruel choice between costly engagement and costly indifference.
quote by Lord Robertson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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State of the Union
When the President “served” in the Senate
He was mostly an absentee tenant.
So I don’t find it odd he’s campaigning for “God”
while our Country is stuck in the toilet.
In the Senate a fellow named Baucus
Believes it’s a one party Caucus
No G.O.P. need apply, this fellow is sly
Nearly nine hundred Billion he’ll cost us.
In the House we’ve got Reid and Pelosi
So I’m viewing our future morosely
If the “tea party” crew doesn’t give them the shoe
“free” health care will likely prove costly.
When I look at our unfunded debt, I wonder how bad it will get.
Will the whole thing implode?
Will our prince prove a toad?
Las Vegas is now taking bets.
poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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So Close To Love
Too close to love!
Yet it's,
Costly to keep.
And it's,
Too costly to leave it.
So close to love.
I prayed with faith to get it.
Never knowing love would be 'that' close.
Never knowing I would love it most.
Too close to love!
Yet it's,
Costly to keep.
And it's,
Too costly to leave it.
Too close to love!
Yet it's,
Costly to keep.
And it's,
Too costly to leave it.
So close to love.
Never knowing love would be 'that' close.
Never knowing I would love it most.
And I'm,
So close to love.
Never knowing love would be 'that' close.
Never knowing I would love it most.
Too close to love!
Yet it's,
Costly to keep.
And it's,
Too costly to leave it.
So close to love.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Marie-Rose de Beauharnais 1795
To what shall I liken thee?
An angel in realms above,
a mermaid in Oceans beneath,
a costly stone in the fiercest
contention sought for,
or even a costly diamond in the
earth's elusive epicentre buried?
Your beauty is a turning point
reference in your amazing book
of chronicles.
poem by Joseph C Ogbonna (13 May 2021)
Submitted by Joseph C Ogbonna
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Spiritually Costly
It has been spiritually costly,
For the status quo to adopt policies...
That has kept racist inequities,
Unchecked.
Without reflecting.
Or introspectively accepting.
And keeping ignorant beliefs,
A segment of their population suppressed...
In an oppressive freedom,
That advances irresponsibility.
And with excuses made to feed...
Upon perceptions that leaves them,
Feeling rejected and in dire need.
To be left convinced...
Staying to pray on their knees,
Saves their souls.
It has been spiritually costly,
For them not to participate...
In the upgrading of a mindset,
That does not compensate...
Those that do not initiate respect.
With a protection done,
Not of benefit to anyone.
It has been spiritually costly,
For them not to insist...
An advantage is received,
By those with desires to relieve themselves
Of fantasies.
And to live life right,
Is to forgive.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Who Is This God Fellow And What's The Reason Why
Who is this God Fellow
And what’s the reason why
Did he murder the last poet
When he thought to cry
Who is this God Fellow
And what’s the reason why
Dose he never leave the gated community
Of his heaven in the sky.
Who is this God fellow
And what is his gig
It seems to me that he and his priest
Got the whole damn thing rigged
Is he a prince or a pauper a pusher or a pimp
That dose his jealous thing reveal
To me while I smoke a bit of hemp.
Who is this God fellow
Is he married to human by the power of a prayer
And why is it that he should even care
Who is this God fellow and what’s the reason why
Did he murder the last poet when he thought to cry
Who is this God fellow and why are his blessings to live
Only by the hands of priest that are stingy to give
Who the reason and what’s the reason why
That a small rain should collect in his eyes.
poem by David E. Patton
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A Ballad
In a costly palace Youth goes clad in gold;
In a wretched workhouse Age's limbs are cold:
There they sit, the old men by a shivering fire,
Still close and closer cowering, warmth is their desire.
In a costly palace, when the brave gallants dine,
They have store of good venison, with old canary wine,
With singing and music to heighten the cheer;
Coarse bits, with grudging, are the pauper's best fare.
In a costly palace Youth is still carest
By a train of attendants which laugh at my young Lord's jest;
In a wretched workhouse the contrary prevails:
Does Age begin to prattle?-no man heark'neth to his tales.
In a costly palace if the child with a pin
Do but chance to prick a finger, straight the doctor is called in;
In a wretched workhouse men are left to perish
For want of proper cordials, which their old age might cherish.
In a costly palace Youth enjoys his lust;
In a wretched workhouse Age, in corners thrust,
Think upon the former days, when he was well to do,
Had children to stand by him, both friends and kinsmen too.
In a costly palace Youth his temples hides
With a new devised peruke that reaches to his sides;
In a wretched workhouse Age's crown is bare,
With a few thin locks just to fence out the cold air.
In peace, as in war, 'tis our young gallants' pride,
To walk, each one i' the streets, with a rapier by his side,
That none to do them injury may have pretence;
Wretched Age, in poverty, must brook offence.
poem by Charles Lamb
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Johnny Speaks
THE sand-man he's a jolly old fellow,
His face is kind and his voice is mellow,
But he makes your eyelids as heavy as lead,
And then you got to go off to bed;
I don't think I like the sand-man.
But I've been playing this livelong day;
It does make a fellow so tired to play!
Oh, my, I'm a-yawning right here before ma,
I'm the sleepiest fellow that ever you saw.
I think I do like the sand-man.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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He that spends his gear before he gets 't will hae but little gude o't.