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Dirge
Cauld, cauld she lies where snaws are deep
And bitter blaws the muirland win',
And over her grave the icy stars
Are keepin' watch abune.
But braw, O braw, the blooms that deck
The grave where he that lo'ed her lies,
And saftly blaws the simmer breeze,
And cloudless are the skies.
poem by William Gay
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Hernani
Cistercians might crack their sides
With laughter, and exemption get,
At sight of heroes clasping brides,
And hearing--O the horn! the horn!
The horn of their obstructive debt!
But quit the stage, that note applies
For sermons cosmopolitan,
Hernani. Have we filched our prize,
Forgetting . . .? O the horn! the horn!
The horn of the Old Gentleman!
poem by George Meredith
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First Encounter - United Buddy Bears
United Buddy Bears
men, stand up for
world peace
United Buddy Bears
getting bears to
teach the men
United Buddy Bears
one by one they line up
for peace
The United Buddy Bears were paraded around the Pavilion Kuala Lumpur early 2012.
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Thank The Polar Bears
Thank the Polar bears for being with us tonight
Thank the Polar bears and make sure they are alright.
Thank the Polar bears who live way up there
Thank the Polar bears who also do share
Share the same planet as all of us down here
Thank the Polar bears for they are so dear.
Written by Christina Sunrise on September 20,2012
www.christinasunrise.com www.suzae.com
poem by Christina Sunrise
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Every Friday
Every Friday I look like a shit,
Every Friday I look like a shit,
Every Friday I look like a shit,
I loooooooook like a shit.
But every Monday I am like a horn,
But every Monday I am like a horn,
But every Monday I am like a horn,
I aaaaaaaaam like a hoooooooooorn.
I work in the office of intercom,
I work in the office of intercom,
I work in the office of intercom,
Of iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinter cooooooom.
But every Monday I am like a horn,
And every Tuesday I am like a horn,
On Wednesday and Tuesday I am a horn,
I aaaaaaaaaaaam like a hoooooooooooorn.
On every Friday I look like a shit,
My salary is more now a little bit.
But every Monday I am like a horn,
It looks as on Sunday I was born.
On Friday morning I am so glad
That by the evening I’ll look like a fad
Or may be like a dirty pig
Trying the ground to dig, dig, dig.
But…every Monday I am like a horn,
On certain Sunday I was born,
And every Friday I am like a shit.
My life is better........, a little bit.
More or less
It was my sincere confess.
Lol, lol, lol and loooooooool.
On every Friday there is no control.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska
March 16th,2011
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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Polar Bear Thanks Me
It was great to know
that Polar Bears would show
show up in flowers a bloom
I received acard in the month
of April not June.
Yes, on a Thank You greeting card
the Polar Bear did say
"Thank You"
for defending them that day.
Polar Bears were thanking me
for all the world to read
a poem about the Polar Bears destiny.
So please read 'Protect The Polar' bears
and 'Let The Polar Bears Live'
they will be thankful that you did.
Please go to www.oceana.org today
and donate to saving wildlife of the planet
before there is no more for us to pray.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on March 21,2012
poem by Christina Sunrise
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Horn
Rhine wine, car horn
Now that youve deceived me, and played my name around
And hung those nasty flyers, on all the buildings in town
Dribbled my possessions in a ring around the earth
And bought and sold my self-control for less than it was worth
Now I know the reason that Im feeling so forlorn
Ill pick you up at eight as usual, listen for my horn
Rhine wine, car horn
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Hunter’s Song
RISE! Sleep no more! ’T is a noble morn:
The dews hang thick on the fringed thorn,
And the frost shrinks back, like a beaten hound,
Under the steaming, steaming ground.
Behold, where the billowy clouds flow by,
And leave us alone in the clear gray sky!
Our horses are ready and steady.—So, ho!
I ’m gone, like a dart from the Tartar’s bow.
Hark, hark!—Who calleth the maiden Morn
From her sleep in the woods and the stubble corn?
The horn,—the horn!
The merry, sweet ring of the hunter’s horn.
Now, thorough the copse, where the fox is found,
And over the stream, at a mighty bound,
And over the high lands, and over the low,
O’er furrows, o’er meadows, the hunters go!
Away!—as a hawk flies full at its prey,
So flieth the hunter, away,—away!
From the burst at the cover till set of sun,
When the red fox dies, and—the day is done!
Hark, hark!—What sound on the wind is borne?
’T is the conquering voice of the hunter’s horn.
The horn,—the horn!
The merry, bold voice of the hunter’s horn.
Sound! Sound the horn! To the hunter good
What ’s the gulley deep or the roaring flood?
Right over he bounds, as the wild stag bounds,
At the heels of his swift, sure, silent hounds.
O, what delight can a mortal lack,
When he once is firm on his horse’s back,
With his stirrups short, and his snaffle strong,
And the blast of the horn for his morning song?
Hark, hark!—Now, home! and dream till morn
Of the bold, sweet sound of the hunter’s horn!
The horn,—the horn!
O, the sound of all sounds is the hunter’s horn!
poem by Barry Cornwall
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A river bears a burden
A river bears a burden
It carries far downstream,
And no man's eyes will see it
Or fathom what it means.
A river bears a burden
Beneath it's swirling toil.
It's rippling edges teasing
The sodden, silent soil.
A river bears a burden
Beneath our nightly dreams,
Our temporal excursions
Along it's watered seams.
A river bears a burden
Of many dreaming feet,
Searching all it's alleys
To a dreamer's slow heartbeat.
A river bears a burden;
It will not wake our sleep,
But carries us forever
Our roaming souls, to meet.
poem by Patti Masterman
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Preconception
The mother-in-law bears the brunt
In a fight her son’s wife had with her.
Woman bears the brunt in a scandal.
Man bears the brunt in consensual sex.
(10.04.2004)
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Polar Bears Thanks Me
It was great to know
that Polar Bears would show
show up in flowers a bloom
I received acard in the month
of April not June.
Yes, on a Thank You greeting card
the Polar Bear did say
"Thank You"
for defending them that day.
Polar Bears were thanking me
for all the world to read
a poem about the Polar Bears destiny.
So please read 'Protect The Polar' bears
and 'Let The Polar Bears Live'
they will be thankful that you did.
Please go to www.oceana.org today
and donate to saving wildlife of the planet
before there is no more for us to pray.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on March 21,2012
poem by Suzae Chevalier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ghosts Of Cape Horn
All around old cape horn
Ships of the line, ships of the morn
Some who wish theyd never been born
They are the ghosts of cape horn
Fal deral da riddle de rum
With a rim dim diddy
And a rum dum dum
Sailing away at the break of morn
They are the ghosts of cape horn
See them all in sad repair
Demons dance everywhere
Southern gales, tattered sails
And none to tell the tales
Come all of you rustic old sea dogs
Who follow the great southern cross
You were rounding the horn
In the eye of a storm
When ya lost er one day
And you read all yer letters
From oceans away
Then you took them to the bottom of the sea
All around old cape horn
Ships of the line, ships of the morn
Those who wish theyd never been born
They are the ghosts of cape horn
Fal deral da riddle de rum
With a rim dim diddy
And a rum dum dum
Sailing away at the break of morn
They are the ghosts of cape horn
Come all you old sea dogs from devon
Southampton, penzance, and kinsale
You were caught by the chance
Of a sailors last dance
It was not meant to be
And ya read all yer letters
Cried anchor aweigh
Then ya took them to the bottom of the sea
All around old cape horn
Ships of the line, ships of the morn
Those who wish theyd never been born
They are the ghosts of cape horn
Fal deral da riddle de rum
With a rim dim diddy
And a rum dum dum
Sailing away at the break of morn
They are the ghosts of cape horn
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Save The Polar Bears
Ice caps melting every day
we need to help Polar Bears
We need to Save…
Save Polar Bears by helping
putting them in a better place
Even zoos to save their fate.
Russia also is a good place…
Save the Polar Bears for
we the 'human race'
are the one's responsible for their fate.
Prayer for the Polar bears before it's too late-
See them being able to migrate.
Go to www.polarbearsinternational.org-
please donate now this we can't ignore.
Adopt a Polar bear on this site-
your contribution is well worth it
to help their plight.
poem by Christina Sunrise
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If regret was a horn, one's horn would reach the sky.
Little Horn
Theres an apple in the pussy mouth
Now I am the dinner whore
Theres a tumor in the t.v. mouth
Burn it out before it grows
Someone better get the dog to kick,
Jaws wired shut to save the dick
Out of the bottomless pit comes the little horn
little horn is born
The world spreads its legs for another star
World shows its face for another scar
Dead will dance for what is left
The worms will wait with baited breath
your blind have now become my deaf
So says this little horn
save yourself from this...
(chorus)
song performed by by Marilyn Manson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Finest Worksong
The time to rise has been engaged
Youre better best to rearrange
Im talking here to me alone
I listen to the finest worksong
Your finest hour
Another chance has been engaged
To throw thoreau and rearrange
You are following this time
I beg you not beg to rhyme (blow your horn)
Your finest hour (blow your horn)
Take your instinct by the reins
Your better best to rearrange
What we want and what we need
Has been confused been confused (blow your horn)
Your finest hour (blow your horn)
(repeat 3rd verse)
song performed by by REM
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lines and Squares
Whenever I walk in a London street,
I'm ever so careful to watch my feet;
And I keep in the squares,
And the masses of bears,
Who wait at the corners all ready to eat
The sillies who tread on the lines of the street
Go back to their lairs,
And I say to them, "Bears,
Just look how I'm walking in all the squares!"
And the little bears growl to each other, "He's mine,
As soon as he's silly and steps on a line."
And some of the bigger bears try to pretend
That they came round the corner to look for a friend;
And they try to pretend that nobody cares
Whether you walk on the lines or squares.
But only the sillies believe their talk;
It's ever so portant how you walk.
And it's ever so jolly to call out, "Bears,
Just watch me walking in all the squares!"
poem by Alan Alexander Milne
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We are born believing. A man bears beliefs, as a tree bears apples.
quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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