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A Haunted Song
Beneath this citadel of broken dreams
The hollow dungeons lie,
Each night you hear the awful screams
While the moon bellows in the sky.
There is no hope for Maud and me,
We know we're going to die,
No saint will come and set us free
While the moon bellows in the sky.
We've spent our love and shed our tears
And heard the angels sigh,
No-one will ever count our years
While the moon bellows in the sky.
So now you know why old men weep
And little children cry,
They block their ears and cannot sleep
While the moon bellows in the sky.
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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Hanover Winter Song
Ho, a song by the fire;
Pass the pipes, pass the bowl.
Ho, a song by the fire
With a skoal, with a skoal.
Ho, a song by the fire;
Pass the pipes with a skoal,
For the wolf-wind is wailing at the doorways,
And the snow drifts deep along the road,
And the ice gnomes are marching from their Norways,
And the great white cold walks abroad.
But, here by the fire, we defy frost and storm;
Ha, ha we are warm, and we have our heart's desire.
For here, we're good fellows, and the beechwood and the bellows;
And the cup is at the lip in the pledge of fellowship.
Oh, here by the fire, we defy frost and storm;
Ha, ha, we are warm, and we have our heart's desire.
For here we're good fellows, and the beechwood and the bellows.
And the cup is at the lip in the pledge of fellowship,
Of fellowship
Pile the logs on the fire;
Fill the pipes, pass the bowl.
Pile the logs on the fire
With a skoal, with a skoal.
Pile the logs on the fire;
Fill the pipes with a skoal,
For the fire goblins flicker on the ceiling,
And the wine witch glitters in the glass,
And the smoke wraiths are drifting, curling, reeling,
And the sleigh bells jingle as they pass.
But, here by the fire, we defy frost and storm;
Ha, ha we are warm, and we have our heart's desire.
For here, we're good fellows, and the beechwood and the bellows;
And the cup is at the lip in the pledge of fellowship.
Oh, here by the fire, we defy frost and storm;
Ha, ha, we are warm, and we have our heart's desire.
For here we're good fellows, and the beechwood and the bellows.
And the cup is at the lip in the pledge of fellowship,
Of fellowship
Oh, a God is the fire;
Pull the pipes, drain the bowl.
Oh, a God is the fire
With a skoal, with a skoal.
Oh, a God is the fire;
Pull the pipes with a skoal,
For the room has a spirit in the embers,
Tis a God and our fathers knew his name,
And they worship'd him in long-forgot Decembers,
And their hearts leap'd high with the flame.
poem by Richard Hovey
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Man is fire, woman is tow; the devil comes with a bellows.
A woman is flax, man is fire, the devil comes and blows the bellows.
On Their Own Terms
On their own terms,
People have a right to do and choose...
As they please.
This should not lead to an argument.
However...
When those terms and choices one chooses,
At the crossing over a threshold into someone's home...
Anyone believing they should be treated,
Based upon their own terms...
Should excuse themselves immediately.
Before they are asked to leave.
Thus making the keeping of their own terms,
An issue not needing to be debated.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I think in terms of family, in terms of relationships, in terms of work, competition to be the favorite, to be the noticed, to be the one - I don't know if it exists for all personalities, but I know for sure it did with me.
quote by Marcia Gay Harden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I think in terms of family, in terms of relationships, in terms of work, competition to be the favorite, to be the noticed, to be the one - I don't know if it exists for all personalities, but I know for sure it did with me.
quote by Marcia Gay Harden
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Crying Fire
Fire is crying with
Simple voice
In the black smith`s yard
With red crop cutter
Fire is crying with
The Farmer`s lip
And the burning cigar
With the empty stomach
Fire is crying with
The the roof top and the mother
Beside laid the silent son
With the red eye
Fire is crying with
The Launching base
And the scientist`s brain
With the Rocket sky
Fire is Laughing with
The smiling lips of you
Round the clock
with Blessing joy and cool.
poem by Vinod Kumar
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We did not speak in terms of strategy, in terms of overall economies, in terms of production and territorial conquest. We spoke of the impact of the bomb on the homes and the hopes of men and women.
quote by Philip Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ebb and Flow
When first Thou on me, Lord, wroughtest Thy sweet print,
My heart was made Thy tinder-box,
My 'ffections were Thy tinder in't,
Where fell Thy sparks by drops.
Those holy sparks of heavenly fire that came
Did ever catch and often out would flame.
But now my heart is made Thy censer trim,
Full of Thy golden altar's fire,
To offer up sweet incense in
Unto Thyself entire:
I find my tinder scarce Thy sparks can feel
That drop from out Thy holy flint and steel.
Hence doubts out bud for fear Thy fire in me
'S a mocking ignis fatuus,
Or lest Thine altar's fire out be,
It's hid in ashes thus.
Yet when the bellows of Thy spirit blow
Away mine ashes, then Thy fire doth glow.
poem by Edward Taylor
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Belief In God On Their Own Terms
most people believe in God on their own terms
accept God on terms meaning only on their own terms
adapt religious belief to suit first their own terms
God is the same today yesterday tomorrow
God’s commandments are also the same
God never changed his divine commandments
the world changed watered down the law
to suit its own desires its own evil
never forget evil is not sanctioned by God
poem by Terence George Craddock
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So I was always passionate about it and felt that it was sort of the golden thread inside me in terms of what I was supposed to do in terms of work but I think I have relaxed a lot in terms of the actual experience and actually enjoy it more and enjoy the people more.
quote by Barbara Hershey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fragments - Lines 0183 - 0192
Among rams and asses and horses, Kyrnos, we look for those
Of noble breeding, and a man wants them to mate
From worthy stock. Yet a noble man does not mind marrying
A base woman of base birth if she brings him money in abundance,
Nor does a woman shrink from becoming the wife of a base man
With wealth; she prefers a rich husband to a worthy one.
Money is what they honor; the noble weds a base man's daughter,
The base a worthy man's: wealth mixes stock.
Thus do not be amazed, son of Polypaos, that the citizen's stock
Is growing feeble, for what is noble is being mixed with what is base.
On My Own Terms
relating to you must be
on my own terms says the sun to the moon
we don't see each other
neither shall you expect me
to dance your night away
we know the terms of our existence
the closing and the opening
of doors
in such a manner
that when you open i close
what is there
or perhaps that for me to live
so must you die.
it is sad, indeed overwhelmingly
tragic,
nature's laws, our terms of engagement
darkness and light
life and death
you and i.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Faust: What wilt from me, Base Spirit, say? Brass, marble, parchment, paper, clay? The terms with graver, quill, or chisel, stated? I freely leave the choice to thee.
line from Faust by Goethe (1808), translated by Bayard Taylor
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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If you think in terms of a year, plant a seed; if in terms of ten years, plant trees; if in terms of 100 years, teach the people.
Proverbial Song
One to the dog,
Two to the pig,
Three to the opossum which lives around you;
For an apology is rendered freely.
My terms and your terms,
And living in the wolrd of terms to stay alive;
But many still find it difficult to apologise.
He who steals and run awy will live to steal another day,
But the splashes of the sea are very far from me.
I am the proverbial song and the Teddy Bear among the lions!
And you are the Queen of Diva across the parapet;
But many cannot render an apology to others.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Dirty old fire
Fire in my hair
Fire in my eyes
Fire between my thighs
Thank you for the fire
Fire gone and burned down my house
Fire deflowered me
Fire drew me in
Fire on the television
Fire dancing in the nude
Fire the best liar of them all
Thank you Fire
poem by Lindsay Crosby
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Fire on Your Finger
Fire on your finger,
Fire in your eye,
Fire in your spirit,
Fire that won’t die.
Fire in the bare bones of being,
Fire to uphold what’s right,
Fire in the heart of darkness,
Fire to fuel Love’s light.
Fire to burn but not consume,
Fire to learn and not assume,
Fire to live and give living room,
Fire to love and sing her tune.
poem by Tony Jolley
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