The moth does most mischief to the finest garment.
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Hem Of His Garment
Oh I wish I could be
Touched by the hem of his garment
To be proud has never been
So mean, so stern, so cruel
Oh I wish I could be
Touched by the hem of his garment
Oh, Ive come a long way
To touch the hem of his garment
And anger should be
The tool of a clown or a fool, you see
And why should such spite and such pain
Hang between you and me
When love should be
A queen on her throne
Looking after her own
I wish I could be
Touched by the hem of his garment
Two chairs at this table
One bed in this house
Seriously, I think we could be,
Touched by the hem of his garment
Oh, Ive come a long way
To touch the hem of his garment
Written by d. armstrong, r. armstrong, sister bliss, dave randall & maxi jazz
song performed by by Dido
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
Any garment which is cut to fit you is much more becoming, even if it is not so splendid as a garment which has been cut to fit somebody not of your stature.
quote by Edna Ferber
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Japan
Today I pass the time reading
a favorite haiku,
saying the few words over and over.
It feels like eating
the same small, perfect grape
again and again.
I walk through the house reciting it
and leave its letters falling
through the air of every room.
I stand by the big silence of the piano and say it.
I say it in front of a painting of the sea.
I tap out its rhythm on an empty shelf.
I listen to myself saying it,
then I say it without listening,
then I hear it without saying it.
And when the dog looks up at me,
I kneel down on the floor
and whisper it into each of his long white ears.
It's the one about the one-ton temple bell
with the moth sleeping on its surface,
and every time I say it, I feel the excruciating
pressure of the moth
on the surface of the iron bell.
When I say it at the window,
the bell is the world
and I am the moth resting there.
When I say it at the mirror,
I am the heavy bell
and the moth is life with its papery wings.
And later, when I say it to you in the dark,
you are the bell,
and I am the tongue of the bell, ringing you,
and the moth has flown
from its line
and moves like a hinge in the air above our bed.
poem by Billy Collins
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To mourn a mischief that is past and gone Is the next way to draw new mischief on.
quote by William Shakespeare
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Marriage is to bind.
A moth has no desire for the flower he had visited.
A man has less desire for the woman he had tasted.
A moth wants its nectar. A man wants discovery.
That is why he is tied to her by marriage.
20.03.2001, pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Finest Glass
expect later on
that the finest glass
shall be broken
that 's how things
are meant to be
the good die young
the finest shall be taken
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Finest Gift
verse one
She can shop all over town, turn the gift
Shops upside down
Finding something for her man with everything
But it's right behind her eyes and no matter what she buys
She'll always be the finest gift she brings
Chorus
Every year it's never missed, should be at
The top of every list
It can never be outdone,it's the perfect
Gift for everyone
Verse two
It's in everything you'll see scattered
Underneath our tree
You can hear it in the carols that we sing
It's the heart of love's design and it
Appreciates with time
And she'll always be the finest gift she brings
(repeat chorus)
Verse three
Now it's not in any store and she could
Never give me more
Then her promise of the finest gift she brings
I know her love's the finest gift she brings
song performed by by Clint Black
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Desire
Resembling a moth around a burning paper
Is how I'm strained to you,
not capable of opposing your charm
There's not anything I can do,
and like that moth who flies too near
And sets its wing on fire,
I find I too have gone too near
because I'm burning with desire.
poem by Nikhil Chandwani
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Fire-Caught
The gold moth did not love him
So, gorgeous, she flew away.
But the gray moth circled the flame
Until the break of day.
And then, with wings like a dead desire,
She fell, fire-caught, into the flame.
poem by Langston Hughes
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It has been said that idleness is the parent of mischief, which is very true; but mischief itself is merely an attempt to escape from the dreary vacuum of idleness.
quote by George Borrow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Waltz Into Mischief
The latest and greatest
Amazing arrival
No conscience no shame
For the game of survival
Theives and villians
And fraudulent swindlers
Gathered in tribute
With masks of respect
A big hand hooray
Oh come all ye trustful
Let the band play
A waltz into mischief
The chairman is speaking
Instructs the apprentice
All faces are turned
To the wizard of sentence
Years of experience
Fall from his tongue
Like teardops to puddles
They ripple among
A big hand hooray
Oh come all ye trustful
Let the band play
A waltz into mischief
This king of the cowboys
Holds fast his deception
Rides their misgivings
To rapturous reception
Calls on the crowd
Of white pointed heads
To check under carpets
(while were in our beds? )
A big hand hooray
Oh come all ye trustful
Let the band play
A waltz into mischief
A big hand hooray
Oh come all ye trustful
Let the band play
A waltz into mischief
A big hand hooray
Oh come all ye trustful
Let the band play
A waltz into mischief
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Excellent
Performing duties
Perfectly honestly
Selflessly is excellent
And through this
You would attain
The highest good
This is the finest
Poem in finest order.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Finest Gift
Verse one
She can shop all over town, turn the gift
Shops upside down
Finding something for her man with everything
But its right behind her eyes and no matter what she buys
Shell always be the finest gift she brings
Chorus
Every year its never missed, should be at
The top of every list
It can never be outdone,its the perfect
Gift for everyone
Verse two
Its in everything youll see scattered
Underneath our tree
You can hear it in the carols that we sing
Its the heart of loves design and it
Appreciates with time
And shell always be the finest gift she brings
(repeat chorus)
Verse three
Now its not in any store and she could
Never give me more
Then her promise of the finest gift she brings
I know her loves the finest gift she brings
song performed by by Clint Black
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Erotomania-A Delusion of Love
A moth or an innocent boy
Or incessantly talking toy
Caught helplessly
In a nature’s ploy:
Thought flame loves me
Thought dame thinks of me
Thought ma’am cares for me.
All the while
The flame
with a flickering smile
burning in a opaque
lamp of guile
with a global
all devouring vision
and feeding with oil of treason
Saw a moth adamant on
self sacrificing mission
The hypnotized moth
went near
a flame with glee
and made love making
earnest plea
And the cunning flame
Gladly reply
Yeah.
Flame knew moth had
Erotomania- A delusion of love
Soon he would be devoured
As hyena devours dove
Then,
Alluring flame-an enticing threat
Beckoned him for a embraced great
Then licking the moth with
A tongue of death
She sucked away
His laboring breath.
Lo! Comes
One more moth
on the trot,
Attired in a martyr’s coat,
Burning in a heartrending
passions hot,
Bubbling like a
love stewed broth;
Trying to cross
A death filled moat
In a love tiled
porous boat,
While vainly trying
to remain afloat
The hypnotized moth
went near
the flame with glee
and made love making's
earnest plea
And the cunning flame
Gladly reply
Yeah!
Dr Hitesh C Sheth
11/12/2008
poem by Hitesh Sheth
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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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A Moth Slow Dancing In Flames
After dark
a solitary moth
clad in lackluster
traipsed across the humid air
circumnavigating dismal filigrees
like an ominous message
conveying the petrichor
It weathered the tedium
of its own gust
crumbling slivered dusts
and tread the astray thread
of light and warmth
to find a candle
weep floridly bright
Like hands reaching out -
hands shaped into
a house with an open hearth
it melted and undressed
while its sartorial flame
remain unscathed
The moth basked
in this unprecedented heraldry,
this munificent beauty
like how the wine
feign resplendence under
the moon's gentle bliss
and the moth spewed
the colours it eschewed
The saudade warmth
embraced the moth's cape
of shame and pride
and became its asylum
and gilded heaven
Slowly dancing in flames
because to burn out
is better than to fade away
poem by Norman Santos
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Identity would seem to be the garment with which one covers the nakedness of the self, in which case, it is best that the garment be loose, a little like the robes of the desert, through which one's nakedness can always be felt, and, sometimes, discerned. This trust in one's nakedness is all that gives one the power to change one's robes.
quote by James Baldwin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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