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De Worthiness of Argument
(A little argument spices up luv
And life now and then)
Widout women,
Dere would be no men.
Widout men,
Dere would be no women.
Widout women and men,
Dere would be no argument.
And widout de spice of argument,
De world would be seasonless and full of zombies.
poem by Gabriel Eshun
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Its All About The Water
Sheila
Watah in de kitchen!
Church
Water in the bar!
Ensemble
Its all about da water, dont you know
Kinja needs da water, da h2o
Its all about da water, it aint no lie
Widout de water we shrivel up and die
Sheila
De main cistern go down to zero
De new bossman, he be a hero
Solve de problem, so give a cheer-o
He turn on de water!
Ensemble
H2 h2 0 h2 h2 0
Iris
I had my doubts about this new yorker
Thought hed just be a big talker
But as a bossman, hes a corker
He turned on the water
Ensemble
H2 h2 0 h2 h2 0
Paperman
Im new to kinja, I admit
But nothing heres gonna make me quit
This island dont scare me a bit
I turned on the water!
Ensemble
Its all about da water, dont you know
All about da water, da h2o
All about da water, it aint no lie
Widout da water we shrivel up and die!
Ensemble
H2 h2 0 h2 h2 0
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You nebber see kicking' cow widout kickin'calf.
Befo' darg go widout supper, him nyam cockroach.
An Explanation
Look heah! 'Splain to me de reason
Why you said to Squire Lee,
Der wuz twelve ole chicken thieves
In dis heah town, includin' me.
Ef he tole you dat, my brudder,
He said sump'n dat warn't true;
W'at I said wuz dis, dat der wuz
Twelve, widout includin' you.
Oh! . . . !—
poem by James Weldon Johnson
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Sweet Reprieve Rose
Oh the smell of the sweet reprieve rose
That was thrown on the battle field for my soul
The inevitable mortal wound waits for me on yonder hill
As the dawn breaks on the time transcribed for me
Oh the smell of the sweet reprieve rose
Oh the smell of the sweet reprieve rose
When he was first enclosed
For three dark days and three lonely nights
Until he returned unto the light
Oh the smell of the sweet reprieve rose
Oh the smell of the sweet reprieve rose
When we are first enclosed
Waiting for his trumpet to blow
And for all of his people to be called home
Oh the smell of the sweet reprieve rose
poem by Brian Kilpatrick
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One Flower Grows, One Dies
that rose that grows is surrounded by the suns light, glowing
that rose grows, while my rose dies
my beautiful rose
with the smell of a million roses together
not the store bought roses that just smell like plastic and chemicals
no, the natural smell that i wish i could keep forever
she was my rose, she was the rose that died
and she is the one growing for another one
my flower dies, and the other one grew
not for me, but for you.
poem by Sarah Rabago
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The Most Beautiful by Far
You're the beauty of the stars
And the beauty of a rose
From your cute squinty smile
To your little button nose
No figure on earth
Would dare challenge you
Your beauty is untarnished
From my point of view
When you die and go to heaven
All the angels will sing your name
Wishing every second
That they could look the same
No artist could capture
Your beauty or your grace
Your gorgeous dark locks
And your stunning little face
So when you see a rose
Or gaze upon the stars
You'll know I see your beauty
The most beautiful by far
poem by Patrick Coombe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rose, Fall
Rose of many petals that fall at gentle touch,
you cannot match up to my love-who with touch does not fall
Rose of the green stem, who withers when is dry
you cannot match up to my love, who with age, never dries
Rose of thorny flaws, who pricks me at the lips
you cannot match up to my love, whos lips contain no thorns
Rose like any other rose, who with them does not stand out,
you cannot match up to my love, whose beauty stands outloud
Rose of limited colors, who can only bloom one tone
you cannot match up to my love, who blooms of every hue
Rose, who only appeals to eyes, to those who see its beauty
you cannot match up to my love, who appeals to every sense
Rose fall down, and bow to my love-she is the one with grace
Rose wither away to my love, whose beauty outlives yours
Rose turn 'way, when in presence to my love-
for she holds something you dont hold
and that is my steep love
poem by Afrodita Alkline
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Oh, Bess, Oh Wheres My Bess?
Porgy
I ain axin yo opinion.
Oh, bess, oh wheres my bess,
Wont somebody tell me where?
I ain care what she say,
I ain care what she done,
Wont somebody tell me wheres my bess?
Bess, oh, lawd,
My bess! I want her now,
Widout her I cant go on.
I counted de days dat I was gone
Till I got home to see her face.
Wont somebody tell me wheres my bess?
I want her so, my gal, my bess,
Where is she?
Oh gawd, in yo big heavn
Please show me where I mus go,
Oh give me de strength, show me de way!
Tell me de truth, where is she, where is my gal,
Where is my bess!
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beauty Is Upon You
Beauty is upon you like the rose without a thorn.
Beauty is upon you like the dew on grass each morn.
Beauty is upon you like the sapphire shining sea.
Beauty is upon you like the apple on the tree.
Beauty is upon you like the sunshine on the Earth.
Beauty is upon you like the day God granted birth.
Beauty is upon you like the wings on butterflies.
Beauty is upon you like the grace that God supplies.
Beauty is upon you like the diamond wedding ring.
Beauty is upon you like the season known as Spring.
Beauty is upon you like the little lambs that play.
Beauty is upon you like the snow on Christmas Day.
Beauty is upon you like the rainbows up above.
Beauty is upon you like the sentimental dove.
Beauty is upon you like the young bird new to flight.
Beauty is upon you like the shooting stars each night.
Beauty is upon you like the dolphins as they leap.
Beauty is upon you like the peace that comes with sleep.
Beauty is upon you like ten thousand whispering sighs.
Beauty is upon you like true love that never dies...
Beauty is upon you like true love that never dies...
Beauty is upon you like true love that never dies...
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rose Petals
Rose petals are so soft to touch,
rose petalsfragrance is so divine to smell,
rose petals are like lovely lips which smile,
rose petals are given to lady love,
rose petals are spread on bed of newly bride,
rose petals are life of butterflies,
rose petals are used for beauty baths,
rpse petals are offered on the lotus feet of god,
rose petals are placed on grave of dear ones,
rose petals are offered in river ganga for departed soul,
rose petals are showered on newly weds,
rose petals are decorated on festive days,
roses are given as a promise for everlasting love.
poem by renu Vig sharma sharma
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My Lovely Rose
I have a rose in the garden,
Unfolding red lovely petals,
With thorns surrounding it,
Could not touch and smell its fragrance.
I left the garden,
I left my lovely rose,
Far away yet so near,
Could not touch and smell its fragrance.
Time have passed,
Have seen again my rose,
Beautiful and sweetly scented at its full blossom,
Could not touch and smell its fragrance.
My rose is not mine anymore,
Yet I let my rose feel
Thy undoubting care and heart rejoicing,
Could glimpse again my lovely rose.
poem by Dong Agosto
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Where Your First Rose?
Someone use to remember loved once after many years (first rose-First love) that we never forget. Looking for it again hence nothing can accomplishes first love. Time has changed every things...
____________________________________ ______________________
Where your first rose?
Where your first rose?
I know you looking for it
But you cannot find...
Where your first rose?
I know you having forget it
Somewhere that you don’t know...
Where your first rose?
Hiding some where
You cannot ever reach...
Where your first rose?
Beneath someone heart
That you don’t know the person...
Where your first rose?
That cherish for ever
You forget to rescue it...
Where your first rose?
That you need to smell it
But you didn’t...
Where your first rose?
Smell like angels perfume
You once smell...
Where your first rose?
That you looking every where
Run away from you...
Where your first rose?
That born together in every soul
But you chased away...
Where your first rose?
That gives you happiness
Forever and forever...
Where your first rose?
That you kissed it every day
When you have it...
Where your first rose?
That you still looking for it
After many years left by...
Where your first rose?
That gives you every thing
Warm, happiness and true love...
Where your first rose?
That only dedicated you
By a true angel on earth...
Where your first rose?
You will have it never
Again with jealous eyes...
Where your first rose?
That gives to you
Behalf of true love...
Where your first rose?
That’s become a disappear
After you say no...
Where your first rose?
That has an ocean deep of value
You value it forever...
Where your first rose?
Away from you now
That’s you call every day...
Where your first rose?
You call by dreams
But really cannot touch...
Where your first rose?
You call by name
But didn’t hear your voice...
Where your first rose?
Whispering with you
Every nights and days...
Where your first rose?
That sung a songs ever nights
To lullaby...
Where your first rose?
That you don’t know
where its still...
That’s with me
By
O.W.Palitha Ariyarathna
Copyright, O.W. Palitha Ariyarathna.2010
All Rights Reserved By Author: 2010
poem by Palitha Ariyarathna
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To See A Rose
To see a rose,
first you have to look at its thorns,
so that you can't feel happinness,
if you haven't experienced sadness.
To see a rose,
you have to take her carefully,
you have to love her beauty,
and be aware of her danger.
To see a rose,
you have to be humble,
not envy her beauty,
nor destroy her perfecion.
To see a rose,
you have to be realistic,
to know there's no such beautiful thing in the world,
as the delicate perfection and beauty of a rose.
January 8,2009
poem by Ana Lia Zaldivar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beauty Is Upon You
Beauty is upon you like the rose without a thorn.
Beauty is upon you like the dew on grass each morn.
Beauty is upon you like the sapphire shining sea.
Beauty is upon you like the apple on the tree.
Beauty is upon you like the sunshine on the Earth.
Beauty is upon you like the day God granted birth.
Beauty is upon you like the wings on butterflies.
Beauty is upon you like the grace that God supplies.
Beauty is upon you like the diamond wedding ring.
Beauty is upon you like the season known as Spring.
Beauty is upon you like the little lambs that play.
Beauty is upon you like the snow on Christmas Day.
Beauty is upon you like the rainbows up above.
Beauty is upon you like the sentimental dove.
Beauty is upon you like the young bird new to flight.
Beauty is upon you like the shooting stars each night.
Beauty is upon you like the dolphins as they leap.
Beauty is upon you like the peace that comes with sleep.
Beauty is upon you like ten thousand whispering sighs.
Beauty is upon you like true love that never dies...
Beauty is upon you like true love that never dies...
Beauty is upon you like true love that never dies...
Denis Martindale, copyright, August 2001.
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Parody Of “Uncle Ned”
DERE was an old nigger, and him name was Uncle Tom,
And him tale was rather slow;
Me try to read de whole, but me only read some,
Because me found it no go.
Den hang up de auther Mrs. Stowe,
And kick de volume wid your toe—
And dere's no more public for poor Uncle Tom,
He am gone whar de trunk—lining go.
Him tale dribbles on and on widout a break,
Till you hab no eyes for to see;
When I reached Chapter 4 I had got a headache,
So I had to let Chapter 4 be.
Den hang up, etc.
De demand one fine morning for Uncle Tom died,
De tears down Mrs. Stowe's face ran like rain;
For she knew berry well, now dey'd laid him on de shelf,
Dat she'd neber get a publisher again.
Den hang up, etc.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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Song of The Rose
F Zeus chose us a King of the flowers in his mirth,
He would call to the rose, and would royally crown it;
For the rose, ho, the rose! is the grace of the earth,
Is the light of the plants that are growing upon it!
For the rose, ho, the rose! is the eye of the flowers,
Is the blush of the meadows that feel themselves fair,
Is the lightning of beauty that strikes through the bowers
On pale lovers that sit in the glow unaware.
Ho, the rose breathes of love! ho, the rose lifts the cup
To the red lips of Cypris invoked for a guest!
Ho, the rose having curled its sweet leaves for the world
Takes delight in the motion its petals keep up,
As they laugh to the wind as it laughs from the west.