You don't go into a tavern to say your prayers.
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Tavern Lit By Lamps
The tavern tables stay lit by the lamps,
These are the lamps of excellence.
My tables collect more money
And the energy is also collected.
May this tavern express the whole joy,
May we enter a real improvement,
And may the gates of this city be for sustenance.
These shopkeepers are so careful, more than you,
Let monsters and werewolves be dignified
And then the worst enemy is around.
The tavern is an absolute sanctuary,
A wonderful way of gambling and dancing.
poem by Naveed Akram
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There is no private house in which people can enjoy themselves so well as at a capital tavern... No, Sir; there is nothing which has yet been contrived by man by which so much happiness is produced as by a good tavern or inn.
quote by Samuel Johnson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Portrait Of An Old Woman On The College Tavern Wall
Oh down at the tavern
the children are singing
around their round table
and around me still.
Did you hear what it said?
I only said
how there is a pewter urn
pinned to the tavern wall,
as old as old is able
to be and be there still.
I said, the poets are tere
I hear them singing and lying
around their round table
and around me still.
Across the room is a wreath
made of a corpse's hair,
framed in glass on the wall,
as old as old is able
to be and be remembered still.
Did you hear what it said?
I only said
how I want to be there and I
would sing my songs with the liars
and my lies with all the singers.
And I would, and I would but
it's my hair in the hair wreath,
my cup pinned to the tavern wall,
my dusty face they sing beneath.
Poets are sitting in my kitchen.
Why do these poets lie?
Why do children get children and
Did you hear what it said?
I only said
how I want to be there,
Oh, down at the tavern
where the prophets are singing
around their round table
until they are still.
poem by Anne Sexton
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L'Escargot D'Or
O Tavern of the Golden Snail!
Ten sous have I, so I'll regale;
Ten sous your amber brew to sip
(Eight for the bock and two the tip),
And so I'll sit the evening long,
And smoke my pipe and watch the throng,
The giddy crowd that drains and drinks,
I'll watch it quiet as a sphinx;
And who among them all shall buy
For ten poor sous such joy as I?
As I who, snugly tucked away,
Look on it all as on a play,
A frolic scene of love and fun,
To please an audience of One.
O Tavern of the Golden Snail!
You've stuff indeed for many a tale.
All eyes, all ears, I nothing miss:
Two lovers lean to clasp and kiss;
The merry students sing and shout,
The nimble garcons dart about;
Lo! here come Mimi and Musette
With: "S'il vous plait, une cigarette?"
Marcel and Rudolf, Shaunard too,
Behold the old rapscallion crew,
With flowing tie and shaggy head . . .
Who says Bohemia is dead?
Oh shades of Murger! prank and clown,
And I will watch and write it down.
O Tavern of the Golden Snail!
What crackling throats have gulped your ale!
What sons of Fame from far and near
Have glowed and mellowed in your cheer!
Within this corner where I sit
Banville and Coppée clashed their wit;
And hither too, to dream and drain,
And drown despair, came poor Verlaine.
Here Wilde would talk and Synge would muse,
Maybe like me with just ten sous.
Ah! one is lucky, is one not?
With ghosts so rare to drain a pot!
So may your custom never fail,
O Tavern of the Golden Snail!
poem by Robert William Service
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Why and when prayers can't be of help!
If prayers can't develop person,
and purify oneself,
If prayers can't modify the
person,
If prayers can't erase inherent
fear and prejudice, if prayers are unable to transcend
mundane self,
If prayers can't take one to the
oneness of self and God,
If not prayers show the light,
It is not the prayers that are handicapped,
But the mind without love of
eternal is handicapped,
mind that can't walk
straight, how can it leap,
Without longing for beloved, How can the heartless robot can
see the light,
Can a record player get
deliverance,
chanting mantra billion times
mechanically? The failure is in his own mind,
It is his own mind that is opaque,
darkness felt not due to absence
of light,
But due to thickness of dust on
the mirror, When intense longing
promotes, prayer blooming into
absorption,
Meditation becomes every
breath,
Breath felt heavy without feeling beloved,
Then only one finds it,
and feel always independant
eternal,
Unity of all creation,
As creator himself breathing in all creatures!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Prayers Have Wings You Know
prayers have wings you know
it takes its time and moves slow
but each and every prayer is heard
though you may not hear a word.
the prayers are taken by our guardian angels
to the lord up above
who reads each one with caring and love.
he then puts it in the order received
and then satisfies every ones needs.
so when you say your prayers, day or night
it never leaves gods hearing or sight.
he is there to satisfy our needs
as long as we don't get that greed.
prayers (do) have wings you know
they do not stay in that place called limbo
where they can't be reached.
they are sometimes put in a box
that says incoming mail.
on this the angels do not fail.
so with this thought in mind
i'll leave you untill next time
poem by Louis Rams
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Say Your Prayers
Don't want to live in a prison cell
don't want to live in a smoking room,
independence just won't come to you
in the brief of a diplomat.
Say your prayers for the future
say your prayers for the past,
it might be round the corner
it might be all we have.
Say your Prayers.
Don't want to live with a compromise
don't want to live with hypocrisy,
bureaucracy doesn't have to win
breaks the cage of the beast within.
Say your prayers in the boardroom
say your prayers on the stairs,
it might be catastrophic
it might be too damn bad.
Say your prayers.
I got the cure for compassion fatigue
spend a week with the Timorese,
running scared from the military
you can share you can share your disease.
Now we don't live with an absent master
we don't live on an island divided,
don't want my kids to grow up in shame
in a country with a different name
had to throw them out, had to break the chains.
I got the cure for compassion fatigue
spend a week with the Timorese,
running scared from the military
I come to you with a plaintive plea.
song performed by by Midnight Oil
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Explanation
Love and Death once ceased their strife
At the Tavern of Man's Life.
Called for wine, and threw -- alas! --
Each his quiver on the grass.
When the bout was o'er they found
Mingled arrows strewed the ground.
Hastily they gathered then
Each the loves and lives of men.
Ah, the fateful dawn deceived!
Mingled arrows each one sheaved;
Death's dread armoury was stored
With the shafts he most abhorred;
Love's light quiver groaned beneath
Venom-headed darts of Death.
Thus it was they wrought our woe
At the Tavern long ago.
Tell me, do our masters know,
Loosing blindly as they fly,
Old men love while young men die?
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Aint Got You
I got a maseratti two by two
With snakeskin upholstery
Charge account at goldblatz
But I aint got you
I got a closet full of clothes
And no matter where I goes
You keeps a ring in my nose
But I aint got you
I got a tavern, a liquor store
I play the numbers, 444
I got mojo dont you know
Im all dressed up with no place to go
I got women to the right of me
I got women to the left of me
I got women all around me
But I aint got you, no I aint got you
I got a tavern, and a liquor store
I play the numbers, 444
I got mojo dont you know
But I aint got you
No, I aint got you
No, I aint got you
No, I aint got you
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There are more tears shed over answered prayers than over unanswered prayers.
quote by Saint Theresa of Jesus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The power of prayer
You pray a lot and take pride
That your prayers are granted
And you pray some more
Like a monk like a priest,
Sometimes I think about
Prayerful dogs, what if their
Prayers are granted too
Bones and more bones
Would surely rain from
The heavenly skies.
Oh yes, I pray, but if my
Prayers are not granted,
I still know that God loves me
He thinks my wants are not the best
For me, and he reserves the rest.
That really suits me best.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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For whoever is lonely there is a tavern.
quote by Georg Trakl
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The world is a tavern and the way hereafter is our home.
The tavern is far, but I will walk carefully.
Blessings Tears Offered In Prayers Prayed
in this quiet house built on high ground
burns sacred incense with prayers
prayers prayed for souls of our drowned
sandalwood smoke in longevity rises
blessings tears offered in prayers prayed
in house on high ground purchased
father’s words echo build on high ground
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The church is near, but the way is icy. The tavern is far, but I will walk carefully.
The church is near, but the way is icy, The tavern is far, but I will walk carefully.
Sonnet XI: Tears, Vows, and Prayers
Tears, vows, and prayers win the hardest heart:
Tears, vows, and prayers have I spent in vain;
Tears cannot soften flint, nor vows convert;
Prayers prevail not with a quaint disdain.
I lose my tears where I have lost my love;
I vow my faith where faith is not regarded;
I pray in vain a merciless to move;
So rare a faith ought better be rewarded.
Yet though I cannot win her will with tears,
Though my soul's idol scorneth all my vows,
Though all my prayers be to so deaf ears,
No favor though the cruel Fair allows.
Yet will I weep, vow, pray to cruel she;
Flint, frost, disdain wears, melts, and yields we see.
poem by Samuel Daniel
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