However extravagant men's desires, they hope to see them gratified.
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The Refugees
In the shabby train no seat is vacant.
The child in the ripped mask
Sprawls undisturbed in the waste
Of the smashed compartment. Is their calm extravagant?
They had faces and lives like you. What was it they possessed
That they were willing to trade for this?
The dried blood sparkles along the mask
Of the child who yesterday possessed
A country welcomer than this.
Did he? All night into the waste
The train moves silently. The faces are vacant.
Have none of them found the cost extravagant?
How could they? They gave what they possessed.
Here all the purses are vacant.
And what else could satisfy the extravagant
Tears and wish of the child but this?
Impose its canceling terrible mask
On the days and faces and lives they waste?
What else are their lives but a journey to the vacant
Satisfaction of death? And the mask
They wear tonight through their waste
Is death's rehearsal. Is it really extravagant
To read in their faces: What is there we possessed
That we were unwilling to trade for this?
poem by Randall Jarrell
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Were There Hope
I was never in a league of noble gentlemen
To whom she'd cast polite and flitting smiles,
Only distant hope and dying dreams for me!
Or perhaps descent into a game of wiles
To give a chance of sipping wine on heady nights
With her angelic presence to declare;
Above, an aura playing out hypnotic hues,
And I in awe of blonde cascades of hair.
But no! my tiring soul is sinking in a mire
To haunt me for an age and evermore, for
How could I expect to hold her silken hand
When I am but a soulless ghost of yore?
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
Hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope, hope?
Hope?
Never
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Desire
Northern star
Am I frightened
Where can I go to rest
I cant sleep
And Im still fighting
Wait, dont breathe
The time destroys a man
A child who understands
That anyone who desires
Is not my kind
Not my truth
Fade away, its all we do
Fade away from the truth
Desires
Fade away
Desires
Fade away
Desires
And northern star
Please enlighten
The lost prayers of my soul
Childhood dreams
Of death and titans
We were meant to be free
To give ourselves away
So please dont be afraid
Of anyone who desires
Theyre not my kind
Not my truth
Fade away, its all we do
Fade away from the truth
Desires
Fade away
Desires
Fade away
Desires
Fade away
Desires
cause anyone who desires
Is not my kind
I have no use for you
song performed by by Zwan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Guess, If You Can…
(a re-post)
nomadic desires
vagrant desires
kleptomaniac desires
splurging desires
hide behind a
façade of placidity
how and when
they surface
and usurp one
is beyond any guess…
19jan2008
23.00hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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But maybe music was not intended to satisfy the curious definiteness of man. Maybe it is better to hope that music may always be transcendental language in the most extravagant sense.
quote by Charles Ives
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What is it men do in women require
What is it men in women do require
The lineaments of Gratified Desire
What is it women do in men require
The lineaments of Gratified Desire
poem by William Blake from Songs and Ballads (1794)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Several Questions Answered
What is it men in women do require?
The lineaments of Gratified Desire.
What is it women do in men require?
The lineaments of Gratified Desire.
The look of love alarms
Because 'tis fill'd with fire;
But the look of soft deceit
Shall Win the lover's hire.
Soft Deceit & Idleness,
These are Beauty's sweetest dress.
He who binds to himself a joy
Dot the winged life destroy;
But he who kisses the joy as it flies
Lives in Eternity's sunrise.
Submitted by Josh Horn
poem by William Blake
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Question Answered
What is it men in women do require?
The lineaments of gratified Desire.
What is it women do in men require?
The lineaments of gratified Desire
poem by William Blake
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Desire…few Facets
(a re-post)
ripples of wanton
desires whirl in
a whimsical heart
whims of desires
whisper naggingly into
a winding heart
wily desires
wretched desires
waltz unabashedly
the wearied mind
simply stands
witness to the
woeful rigmarole…
19jan2008
22.30hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Pleasure Seeker
Pleasure seeker
Hunting to get 'lucky'
Hoping to pluck someone without scruples.
Hoping to get laid,
With less of a game to be played.
And those moralistic ones,
Are the best to tease.
Easy to capture,
With temptations to please.
Pleasure seeker desires one of these.
To squeeze a butt while screwing up juices.
Or to leave one sucking,
Discreetly!
After a satisfying time,
Delivered from one's knees.
Or...
Better left gratified,
Under sheets naked...
Entwined in sweat,
Left by a slow building heat....
That comes after calls for wanting more,
Have cooled.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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B: XV: Mission de Chef + Love the Love I Love + Holey Seat
Mission de Chef
Out of strong desires
I want to make a sauce
The sum of whose desires
Is greater than desires.
I will then subtract desires,
Label what is left as 'CHARM',
And find out if it works on love,
If it leads to love's demise,
Too weak without,
yet outlasting strong desires.
Love the Love I Love
You say you love me
You say you can't love her
I love her
Her love is what makes me
You don't love her
You don't love me
Love the love I love
And you will love me
Holey Seat
A fundament they share,
Poetry and Brown:
After one that takes some effort,
You sometimes put a quick one down.
poem by Douglas Scotney
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Sehnsucht
Whence are ye, vague desires,
Which carry men along,
However proud and strong;
Which, having ruled to-day,
To-morrow pass away?
Whence are ye, vague desires?
Whence are ye?
Which women, yielding to,
Find still so good and true;
So true, so good to-day,
To-morrow gone away.
Whence are ye, vague desires?
Whence are ye?
From seats of bliss above,
Where angels sing of love;
From subtle airs around,
Or from the vulgar ground,
Whence are ye, vague desires?
Whence are ye?
A message from the blest,
Or bodily unrest;
A call to heavenly good,
A fever in the blood
What are ye, vague desires?
What are ye?
Which men who know you best
Are proof against the least,
And rushing on to-day,
To-morrow cast away.
What are ye, vague desires?
What are ye?
Which women, ever new,
Still warned, surrender to;
Adored with you to-day,
Then cast with you away,
What are ye, vague desires?
What are ye?
Which unto boyhood’s heart
The force of man impart,
And pass, and leave it cold,
And prematurely old,
What are ye, vague desires?
What are ye?
Which, tremblingly confest,
Pour in the young girl’s breast
Joy, joy, the like is none,
And leave her then undone,
What are ye, vague desires?
What are ye?
Ah yet! though man be marred,
Ignoble made, and hard;
Though broken women lie
In anguish down to die;
Ah yet! ye vague desires,
Ah yet!
By Him who gave you birth,
And blended you with earth,
Was some good end designed
For man and womankind;
Ah yet! ye vague desires,
Ah yet!
The petals of to-day,
To-morrow fallen away,
Shall something leave instead,
To live when they are dead;
When you, ye vague desires,
Have vanished;
A something to survive,
Of you though it derive
Apparent earthly birth,
But of far other worth
Than you, ye vague desires,
Than you.
poem by Arthur Hugh Clough
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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So sweet, no regrets
Come here; come to me; my dear.
Give in before my desires dry.
Grant me before your desires dry.
Your lips must part and breasts wake up.
Your bottom must turn a hot bed,
That the sweats, like fountains, must wet.
Set aside your blushes, I beg.
Set aside your virtues, I beg.
You will get what you miss, I bet.
Have a course, which is not a curse
It is a myth that you are spoilt.
It is an act of sport, that’s all.
Come here, very now, my dear.
Give in before my desires die.
Grant me before your desires die.
Be it a consensual act
And so soon a buried secret..
So sweet as it is, no regrets.
08.11.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The audacity to hope
I once had dared to hope
For things I now abhor
I had once impudently nursed the hope
Where I had never dared to hope before
I had hoped for sunshine and smiles
And a reprieve from the incessant rain
But the calm before the storm tricked me and transfixed me
And now I daren’t hope for them again
I had hoped for a shelter from the tempest
A haven for my sustenance alone
And perhaps a gallant man, to forever hold my hand
But all I have now is a heart of stone
I had hoped for something to melt the boulder
That lay heavily in my chest to seethe
Some fanciful turn of fate or magical golden gate
But hope for wretched is akin to the sin of greed
Alas, I am eternally alone in my melancholy
From goodness and desires my soul does abstain
I once had the audacity to hope for things beyond my scope
But I will have such hope never again
poem by Samah Khan
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Soulless Knight
Soulless Knight
By: Adam M. Snow
In my darkest hour spoke a lore, not I, not I.
Fornicate the world betrothed, but I, but I.
Extravagant thee of I be cheerful,
Naething be I but fearful.
Naething be I to wonder,
As hour froze, I ponder,
'Will it be a night enchantment? '
No, a night extravagant,
To be with thee a soulless knight,
As death would follow in spite,
As love would conquer all,
As it would be the fall.
The stars at night twinkle upon me,
A misty pass vision of thee,
Cloaked in putrid and raw indeed,
Carrying out the worldly greed.
poem by Adam M. Snow
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AN overblown Overblown balloon
desires
are blown
into being
like balloons
the dinosaurs....
are taken over
by lighter creatures
lighter desires
goodwill
seems to be
getting firmer
footing too
soon desires
would burst into
nothingness
leaving merely
a bang for memory
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Dreams and Desires
So much has been said
So little has been said
So much remains to be said
Or does it
Which is better
To act out one's desires
Or keep them to oneself
Hidden in one's dreams
How to know
Which deisres, when acted on,
Will bring more pleasure than pain
More good than grief
How to know
Which desires should be kept
Safely tucked away
Deep inside dreams
Desires versus dreams
Dreams and/or desires
That is the challenge
To balance the two
To live in the sunshine
To limit the what ifs
To limit the regrets
To live a life one can believe in
poem by MacGregor Tagliaferro
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What Hope Can Do.
Hope....
Hope......
Hope is what strives you to be the best that you can.
Hope is what helps you hold on.
Hope is what makes you feel there could be a possibility that everything can work out for the better.
Hope is what you can make it be.
Hope is magical.
Hope is fantastic.
Hope is beautiful.
Hope is everything.
Hope is sweet.
Hope is there for you.
Hope is there for friends.
Hope is there for family.
Hope is there for loved ones.
Hope is there for everybody..........
By Billy Aston - Wright
poem by Billy AstonWright
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We would often be sorry if our wishes were gratified.
Economy
"There's nothing like economy,"
I heard a chap remark,
Who, judging by his tout ensemble,
Had issued from the ark.
He was a most peculiar man,
With visage wan and thin,
And liquid drops of amber hue
A-trickling down his chin.
"They tell us it's extravagant,"
He added with a shrug,
As he deposited a quid
Within his spacious "mug," —
"They tell us it's extravagant,
This ' chewing of the weed;'
But only use ' economy,'
You'll never be in need.
"And this is how to practise it:
Chew your tobacco well,
Using a little at a time,—
It nat'rally will swell;
"Then take the quid and dry it, sir!"—
'Twas thus the fellow spoke,—
"And, when you want a quiet whiff,
Put in your pipe, and smoke.
"And, stranger, after doing this,
If you are fond of snuff,
The ashes that are left behind
Will serve you well enough.
"And thus," said this peculiar man
(I fear he did but joke,)
"If you will follow my advice,
It will not end in smoke."
poem by Charles Follen Adams from Yawcob Strauss and Other Poems
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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