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~ Epitapoetry ~
~ EPITAPOETRY ~
Ms. Nivedita
UK
February 6,2009.
WELL, SHE CAN’'T SAY...
CAN....GUESS...?
BUT WILL BE...
WHAT...?
STILL WITH A BUT...!
SHE IS MELTING...
LIKE DICHOTOMUS CANDLE...
THE OFT DESTINY...
OF AN UNSUNG...
WHO’S COPULSION...
STAY UNKNOWN...
POETRY IN BREAST...
LOOKING FOR A ‘LOVE WOMB’...
TO BE EMBRYOED AGAIN...
TO GET A CARE OF MOTHER...
FOR HER LOVE...POETRY…
LONG AND LONG...
WHO WILL SORROUGATE HER…
'LOVE WOMB'...? ?
UNENDINGLY...
CEASELESSLY...
LIKE EV’R FLOWING RIVER...
BUT NOT IN HEART...
HEATRS ARE…
WORDLESS…
TRUSTLESS...
HUMU RLESS...
PARCHED SAND...
WHY...? ? ?
SHE CARES NOT TO KNOW…!
LO! EMBRYOD…! !
WHERE E’ER CONVERSING…
ARGUMENTATING SOLLIQUIZING …
WITH CONSCIOUS SUBCONSCIOUS…
ON FUTILITY UTILITY FUTURE …
OR EPITAPH OF POETRY…?
BYTES AFTER BYTES…
NIGHTS AFTER NIGHTS…
FINALLY POETRY CEDED …
WALKOVER MINUS STOPOV’R…
TO EPHITAP…
UNDECIDED LAST LINE…
'EV’RUNBORN EPITAPOETRY'
BYTES AFTER BYTES…
NIGHTS AFTER NIGHTS…!
----
Copyright reserved by the author
poem by Ms. Nivedita Bagchi Spc. Uk.
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Over The Hills
The old hound wags his shaggy tail,
And I know what he would say:
It's over the hills we'll bound, old hound,
Over the hills, and away.
There's nought for us here save to count the clock,
And hang the head all day:
But over the hills we'll bound, old hound,
Over the hills and away.
Here among men we're like the deer
That yonder is our prey:
So, over the hills we'll bound, old hound,
Over the hills and away.
The hypocrite is master here,
But he's the cock of clay:
So, over the hills we'll bound, old hound,
Over the hills and away.
The women, they shall sigh and smile,
And madden whom they may:
It's over the hills we'll bound, old hound,
Over the hills and away.
Let silly lads in couples run
To pleasure, a wicked fay:
'Tis ours on the heather to bound, old hound,
Over the hills and away.
The torrent glints under the rowan red,
And shakes the bracken spray:
What joy on the heather to bound, old hound,
Over the hills and away.
The sun bursts broad, and the heathery bed
Is purple, and orange, and gray:
Away, and away, we'll bound, old hound,
Over the hills and away.
poem by George Meredith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hound Dog Man
Hey, hound dog man,
Where you been now,where you been?
I wish that you were back,
It was too good to ever end.
Once in a while someone like you
Will give everything for what you wanted to do.
Hey, hound dog man,
My old friend play it again.
You gave the world a whole lot of joy
Now that aint bad for a country boy
I just knew you could not lose
The way you sang rock and roll and blues.
I still think about these things
And the memory that it brings
Hey, hound dog man,
My old friend,play it again.
Hey, hound dog man,
My old friend,play it again
Sometimes I think about james dean,
Sammy cooke and my teenage queen.
Doo ron, de ron, de ron,
Marilyn monroe and hot rod fun.
I still think about these things
And the memory that it brings.
Hey, hound dog man,
My old friend,play it again.
Hey, hound dog man,
My old friend why did it end?
Hey, hound dog man,
My old friend, why did it end.
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I’s Gots a Hound Dog Commin
I’s gots a hound dog commin,
He’s gonna sniff me out
Done went and smelled up Herbert
Done smelled up Janice too.
I’s gots a hound dog commin,
Done smelt out dees new wurds,
An hes gonna tear em up
Tear mes as down as well.
I’s Gots a hound dog commin,
Caint hide mys smell no mo,
Dem wurds puts out an oder,
Dat hound is boundda smell.
I’s gots a hound dog commin,
So I says goes, let em come,
He don’t know nuttin no ways,
No comments dat I’s fears.
I’s gots a hound dog commin,
Here doggie, I’s right here.
Come read dees wurds, an tells me,
Is dis a poet dat ya’s smell?
poem by Sandra Osborne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One-eyed Hound
Mister youve been caught at last
Chasing dogs in the moonlight
This man committed a sin
This man he never can win
Mister youve got one more chance
If you catch the hound when the sun shines
This man committed a sin
This man he never can win
And its all gone wrong
Night is the time for chasing the one-eyed hound
And its all been tried before
Night is the time for chasing the one-eyed hound
Have you seen the one-eyed hound?
Tell me where hes going
This man committed a sin
This man he never can win
Every place that I have been
No-one else has seen him
This man committed a sin
This man he never can win
And its all gone wrong
Night is the time for chasing the one-eyed hound
And its all been tried before
Night is the time for chasing the one-eyed hound
Everybodys telling me exactly where to go
This man committed a sin
This man he never can win
People call and people talk
But they dont reach agreement
This man committed a sin
This man he never can win
And its all gone wrong
Night is the time for chasing the one-eyed hound
And its all been tried before
Night is the time for chasing the one-eyed hound
Night is the time for chasing the one-eyed hound
song performed by by Genesis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Hounds
Far off a lonely hound
Telling his loneliness all round
To the dark woods, dark hills, and darker sea;
And, answering, the sound
Of that yet lonelier sea-hound
Telling his loneliness to the solitary stars.
Hearing, the kennelled hound
Some neighbourhood and comfort found,
And slept beneath the comfortless high stars.
But that wild sea-hound
Unkennelled, called all night all round--
The unneighboured and uncomforted cold sea.
poem by John Freeman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Song: Top Dog
Without the luxury or remorse,
of the kennelled cops on horse;
the addict dogs patrol the airport lounge.
I'm an Officer of the Force,
PC Dogie O'Hound, of course,
a taut spring, tight and tensioned, till unwound.
Dogie O'Hound, the cop from the Pound:
I hunts 'em down. I hunts 'em down.
I gets around as Dogie O'Hound,
to sniff out more quarry, pound for pound.
The dog cop is Halle-Boppe,
a comet to a grain.
You'll never stop the dogged cop;
hard-nosed and so well-trained.
The cop dog is top dog,
in the furry food-chain.
The cop dog, full chop dog,
smells guilt in flooding rain.
Dogie O'Hound, the cop from the Pound:
I hunts 'em down. I hunts 'em down.
Dogie O'Hound's no flip-flop, nor bound
by the laws of the jungle. My power's profound!
The cop dog's a hot dog,
whose nose can entertain,
the thick fog and mixed blog,
of false scent as no-brained.
The dog cop is hip-hop;
wild and unrestrained.
The dog cop is tip-top,
black ops and arts arcane.
With a known and honed resource,
my talent alone exhorts,
all lesser breeds to cower, as I confound.
I'm an Officer of the Force,
PC Dogie O'Hound, of course.
I am a blooded lurcher of renown.
Dogie O'Hound, the cop from the Pound:
I hunts 'em down. I hunts 'em down.
Dogie O'Hound, the new hero is crowned,
who harries and worries, and hunts 'em down.
poem by David SmithWhite
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Porcupine
Any hound a porcupine nudges
Can't be blamed for harboring grudges.
I know one hound that laughed all winter
At a porcupine that sat on a splinter.
poem by Ogden Nash
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fair But So Uncool
Charles stepney & rick giles
Glory seeker, fortune hound, dont you ever,
Break it on down.
Aint you been to school
Aint you learned the rules
Aint you paid them dues
The life you need is fair, fair but so uncool
Rip off artis, shootin down.
If you dig it, youre a clown-
Cant you understand
Cant you lend a hand
Cant you be a man
Greedy joker, slidin by, dealin jones-ses with a high
Doncha see its wrong
Doncha wait too long
Doncha hear this song
Time is passin, time is gone
Meet your mirror, further on
Wont you ever yearn
Ever yearn to learn
Wont ya take ya turn
The life you lead is fair, fair
But so uncool (repeat out)
song performed by by Earth Wind And Fire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Black Hound
WHITE-TOOTHED is the Black Hound,
And ever, as he comes after,
There is no sweetness in wine,
Nor is there joyance in laughter.
Red-tongued is the Black Hound,
And ever, as he speeds baying,
There is no shaking him off,
Nor is there stopping or staying.
Keen-sensed in the thick dark
He follows for ever and ever;
Nought stays him in his pursuit —
Nor marsh, nor mountain, nor river.
Day-long through the broad light,
His tongue like a flame outleaping,
He hunts; and we fly before,
Wan-faced, foot-weary and weeping.
Night-through in the still hours
When stars in the sky assemble,
We hear his cry on the roads,
And startled, staring, we tremble.
White-toothed is the Black Hound,
And speed to his limbs is given;
God help and pity us all
Who fly for ever, hard-driven!
Time comes when the feet fail
Or drag on the ways, unwilling;
Then fast, froth-flakes on his jaws,
He speeds keen-fanged to the killing.
Then some, as they pass, say —
Few pausing, and weeping, fewer —
'Hound-work is this that we see,
Fang-work of him, the Pursuer!'
Black Care is the Black Hound,
And ever 'tis his to follow
Pale men from birth to that hour
When grave-mouths open and swallow.
poem by Roderic Quinn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The moth hound
Of a coon hound
you have heard
there's plenty around
i have found
a very strange dog
who's nothing, but a moth hound
when ever, you see
he sees a moth near by
the moth trys to flee,
it isn't no match
as my dog goes after the moth,
and makes a wonderful catch
he eats it all the way
and chews and swallows
he looks at me, now he wants to play
Old King
King went a-runnin after deer
Wasnt scared of jumpin off the truck in high gear
King went a-sniffin and he would go
Was the best old hound dog I ever did know.
I had a dog and his name was king
I told the dog about everything
There in my truck the dog and i
Then one day the king up and died.
Then I thought about the times we had
Once when I kicked him when he was bad
Old king sure meant a lot to me
But that hound dog is history.
King went a-runnin after deer
Wasnt scared of jumpin off the truck in high gear
King went a-sniffin and he would go
Was the best old hound dog I ever did know.
That old king was a friend of mine
Never knew a dog that was half as fine
I may find one, you never do know
cause I still got a long way to go.
I had a dog and his name was king
I told the dog about everything
Old king sure meant a lot to me
But that hound dog is history.
King went a-howlin after deer
Wasnt scared of jumpin off the truck in high gear
King went a-sniffin and he would go
Was the best old hound dog I ever did know.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Twa Corbies
AS I was walking all alane
I heard twa corbies making a mane:
The tane unto the tither did say,
'Whar sall we gang and dine the day?'
'--In behint yon auld fail dyke
I wot there lies a new-slain knight;
And naebody kens that he lies there
But his hawk, his hound, and his lady fair.
'His hound is to the hunting gane,
His hawk to fetch the wild-fowl hame,
His lady 's ta'en anither mate,
So we may mak our dinner sweet.
'Ye'll sit on his white hause-bane,
And I'll pike out his bonny blue e'en:
Wi' ae lock o' his gowden hair
We'll theek our nest when it grows bare.
'Mony a one for him maks mane,
But nane sall ken whar he is gane:
O'er his white banes, when they are bare,
The wind sall blaw for evermair.'
Swamp Music
(ed king - ronnie vanzant)
Going down to the swamp
Gonna watch me a hound dog catch a coon
Well, Im going down to the swamp
Gonna watch me a hound dog catch a coon
You know the hounddog make-a music
On a summer night under a full moon
Lord, fetch my cane pole mama
Gonna catch a bream or maybe two
Lord, fetch my cane pole mama
Gonna catch a bream or maybe two
And when the hound dog start barkin
Sounds like ol son house singin the blues
(chorus)
Hound dog sing that
Swamp, swamp, swamp, swamp music
Swamp, swamp, swamp, swamp music
When the hound dog starts singin
I aint got them big ol city blues
Well, hey pretty mama
Lord, just take that city hike
Said go ahead pretty mama
Lord, just take your city hike
Well, Id rather live with the hound dogs
For the rest of my natural born life
(chorus)
Singing that
Swamp, swamp, swamp, swamp music
Swamp, swamp, swamp, swamp music
Well, Id rather live with the hounddogs
For the rest of my natural born life
Well, Id wanna live with the hound dogs
For the rest of my natural born life
song performed by by Lynyrd Skynyrd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Twa Corbies
As I was walking all alane
I heard twa corbies making a mane;
The tane unto the t'other say,
"Where sall we gang and dine to-day?"
"—In behint yon auld fail dyke,
I wot there lies a new-slain knight;
And naebody kens that he lies there,
But his hawk, his hound, and lady fair.
"His hound is to the hunting gane,
His hawk to fetch the wild-fowl hame,
His lady's ta'en another mate,
So we may mak our dinner sweet.
"Ye'll sit on his white hause-bane,
And I'll pick out his bonnie blue een;
Wi' ae lock o' his gowden hair
We'll theek our nest when it grows bare
"Mony a one for him makes mane,
But nane sall ken where he is gane;
O'er his white banes, when they are bare,
The wind sall blaw for evermair."
Deserted Cemeteries Of The Heart
I was in my white room
Sitting on top of the world
Where there are no cares to implore
Never worried about if there was more
Touching monsters that are made to laugh
Tasting colors, smelling every sound
Bite the dog of reality's hound
All this in a way, without any
Hell has come to claim it's fair game
In the deserted cemeteries of the heart
poem by Midnights Voice
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Twa Corbies
As I was walking all alane
I heard twa corbies making a mane;
The tane unto the t'other say,
"Where sall we gang and dine to-day?"
"—In behint yon auld fail dyke,
I wot there lies a new-slain knight;
And naebody kens that he lies there,
But his hawk, his hound, and lady fair.
"His hound is to the hunting gane,
His hawk to fetch the wild-fowl hame,
His lady's ta'en another mate,
So we may mak our dinner sweet.
"Ye'll sit on his white hause-bane,
And I'll pick out his bonnie blue een;
Wi' ae lock o' his gowden hair
We'll theek our nest when it grows bare
"Mony a one for him makes mane,
But nane sall ken where he is gane;
O'er his white banes, when they are bare,
The wind sall blaw for evermair."
poem by Anonymous Americas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Twa Corbies
As I was walking all alane,
I heard twa corbies making a mane;
The tane unto the t'other say,
"Where sall we gang and dine to-day?"
"In behint yon auld fail dyke,
I wot there lies a new slain knight;
And naebody kens that he lies there,
But his hawk, his hound, and lady fair.
"His hound is to the hunting gane,
His hawk to fetch the wild-fowl hame;
His lady's ta'en another mate,
So we may mak our dinner sweet.
"Ye'll sit on his white hause-bane,
And I'll pike out his bonny blue een;
Wi ae lock o his gowden hair
We'll theek our nest when it grows bare.
"Mony a one for him makes mane,
But nane sall ken where he is gane;
Oer his white banes, when they are bare,
The wind sall blaw for evermair."
poem by Anonymous Americas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gullible, The Bear
A Dachshund who was long of hair
met in the forest an old bear.
The bear was sitting on a log
and held in his huge paws a frog.
The hound adored all frogs and toads
and always scanned the fields and roads
for something green that blended in,
it gave him a contented grin.
'What did you have in mind, Big Bear? '
Hound asked, his voice now full of flair.
'Frog legs', the bear said, 'are for me,
my snack to have with the green tea.'
'How could you eat the spark of life? !
He may have children and a wife!
Do you not know, you big bad mug
that I could make from you a rug? '
He spoke, as Dachshunds are so prone
as if the subject were a bone,
then showed his teeth, let out a growl
which then alerted Mrs. Owl.
'Oh, yes', said Mrs.Owl, 'it's true,
a hound can really finish you.
So let the frog go home I say,
that way, your hide will be okay! '
The bear looked at the frog and then
down to the dog and counted ten.
He did not need a bad surprise
and knew that owls are very wise.
poem by Herbert Nehrlich
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hound Doggie
The hound dog is
going to work
he is going to work
he is out there
running in the woods
he is going to work
he is going to work
he is ready
he is going to work
going to work
he is out there
he is going to work
going to work
he's the hound dog
Copyright ©2006
poem by Adryan Rotica
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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