The customs and fashions of men change like leaves on the bough, some of which go and others come.
quote by Dante Alighieri
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Transformation of cultures
I adopt skills, customs and fashions
Which all the people I think high adopt
To elevate myself to their level.
Dull cultures dissolve in brighter ones.
01.03.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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George Edmunds' Song
Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, lie strewn around he here;
Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, how sad, how cold, how drear!
How like the hopes of childhood's day,
Thick clust'ring on the bough!
How like those hopes in their decay-
How faded are they now!
Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, lie strewn around me here;
Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, how sad, how cold, how drear!
Wither'd leaves, wither'd leaves, that fly before the gale:
Withered leaves, withered leaves, ye tell a mournful tale,
Of love once true, and friends once kind,
And happy moments fled:
Dispersed by every breath of wind,
Forgotten, changed, or dead!
Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, lie strewn around me here!
Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, how sad, how cold, how drear!
poem by Charles Dickens
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Customs and convictions change; respectable people are the last to know, or to admit, the change, and the ones most offended by fresh reflections of the facts in the mirror of art.
quote by John Updike
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Sad Memory One Autumn
the leaves fall from the brown bough
pale yellow leaves of autumn
their paleness clings to my brain.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet LXIX: Autumn Idleness
This sunlight shames November where he grieves
In dead red leaves, and will not let him shun
The day, though bough with bough be over-run.
But with a blessing every glade receives
High salutation; while from hillock-eaves
The deer gaze calling, dappled white and dun,
As if, being foresters of old, the sun
Had marked them with the shade of forest-leaves.
Here dawn to-day unveiled her magic glass;
Here noon now gives the thirst and takes the dew;
Till eve bring rest when other good things pass.
And here the lost hours the lost hours renew
While I still lead my shadow o'er the grass,
Nor know, for longing, that which I should do.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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Strategian
He was a military man
who waxed the ends of his moustache
A man must look the best he can.
He thought it added real panache.
He always kept his hair quite short,
his lantern jaw shaved to the bone.
But his moustache or so he thought
was at its best when left alone.
It was his greatest pride and joy
It added something to his face.
He thought the ladies might enjoy.
With every whisker kept in place.
With moustache wax freshly applied
and just a hint of fine cologne.
He was completely satisfied
with what he tried and what he’d done.
The ladies did not seem to care.
About his well dressed upper lip
It seemed they would prefer it bare
for all his clever showman ship
Clean shaven men were all the rage.
The fair sex had the final say
So he shaved off his appendage.
The ladies always get their way.
A soldier knows when to retreat
and make a change to his campaign.
More preferable than face defeat.
it will always grow again.
When fashions change as fashions do.
He is a military man
But he can change his point of view
as quickly as the ladies can.
.07/05/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Winter Is Gone
Winter is gone
And the leaves are green
Winter is gone
And the leaves turn green
Your innocent face
So you never had seen
Come on, my love
And pay the world
Come on, my love
And pay the world
You cheated me
But i wish you well
Rope is bought
And the bough is swung
Rope is bought
And the bough is swung
An innocent man
This day will be hung
Come on, my love
And see me die
Come on, my love
And see me die
See me dancing
Dance beneath the sky
'neath those gallows high
Come on and see me die
Winter is gone
And the leaves are green
Winter is gone
And the leaves turn green
Your innocent face
So i wish i'd never had seen
song performed by by Nick Drake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Foreign Land
A woman is a foreign land,
Of which, though there he settle young,
A man will ne'er quite understand
The customs, politics, and tongue.
The foolish hie them post-haste through,
See fashions odd, and prospects fair,
Learn of the language, "How d'ye do,"
And go and brag they have been there.
The most for leave to trade apply,
For once, at Empire's seat, her heart,
Then get what knowledge ear and eye
Glean chancewise in the life-long mart.
And certain others, few and fit,
Attach them to the Court, and see
The Country's best, its accent hit,
And partly sound its polity.
poem by Coventry Patmore
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O Stubborn Leaf
Alone, suspended high above the ground,
On barren limb, defying season’s change-
O stubborn leaf! Was I to winter bound,
Was I a hapless slave to winter’s rage,
I’d set aside this ghastly rake,
Climb your bough and give it a shake,
Bring you down to where broken leaves are found.
But in my heart I share your stubborn hold,
Resisting winter’s scourge upon the trees.
I cherish fall, the brilliant days of gold
And red, such colors dancing in the leaves,
Not fading brown from winter's freeze,
Falling, rotting, filling the eaves,
Till every trace is buried in the cold.
Change! Change! Change!
change! change! change!
everybody talkin' about change.
change your look,
change your luck,
change your politics,
change your religion...
change the country,
change the world....
change the day!
change your underwear!
loose change, pocket change,
winds of change, march for change....
but all real change begins within...
let's work on that,
and then everything else
will change in turn!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Shepherdess
She was a shepherdess,
Net, met, let, wet, sert, pet, yet, ret, vet, bet, het, jet, net;
And like the game of colours,
But some customs can never change!
Change the possibilities and let me meet up with the muse of love,
For we do understand each other on this love;
And like the signs and the wonders of her lovely muse,
But her natural features in the mirror of love are all that i need.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Wife A-Lost
1 Since I noo mwore do zee your fe{'a}ce,
Up ste{'a}rs or down below,
I'll zit me in the lwonesome ple{'a}ce,
Where flat-bough'd beech do grow;
Below the beeches' bough, my love,
Where you did never come,
An' I don't look to meet ye now,
As I do look at hwome.
Since you noo mwore be at my zide,
In walks in zummer het,
I'll goo alwone where mist do ride,
Drough trees a-drippèn wet;
Below the ra{'i}n-wet bough, my love,
Where you did never come,
An' I don't grieve to miss ye now,
As I do grieve at hwome.
Since now bezide my dinner-bwoard
Your va{'i}ce do never sound,
I'll eat the bit I can avword,
A-vield upon the ground;
Below the darksome bough, my love,
Where you did never dine,
An' I don't grieve to miss ye now,
As I at hwome do pine.
Since I do miss your va{'i}ce an' fe{'a}ce
In pra{'y}er at eventide,
I'll pray wi' woone sad va{'i}ce vor gre{'a}ce
To goo where you do bide;
Above the tree an' bough, my love,
Where you be gone avore,
An' be a-w{'a}itèn vor me now,
To come vor evermwore.
poem by William Barnes
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The timetable of four
The golden glows of sunlight hit me
The smell of freshly cut grass reached me
The sight of freedom exhilarated me
The sounds of birds intrigued me
The beauty around me radiated from everything
The long open stretches of grass
The shady woodlands going on and on
The unending number of livening creatures
The cawing raven in the tree branches
The worm busily digging in the soil
The fish swimming idly in the pond
The child playing happily in the park
It is summer now but soon it will change
Soon it will change
Soon it will change into Autumn
I’ll still be in my tree
The children are playing in the heaps of leaves
The leaves have all gone a golden colour
The ravens are searching for bugs in the leaves
The fish are swimming slower in their pond
It is Autumn now but it will soon change
Soon it will change
Soon it will change into Winter
I’ll still be in my tree
There are no children playing
There are no leaves on the trees
The ravens have all gone south
There are no fish in the pond
It is Winter now but it will soon change
It will soon change
It will soon change into spring
I’ll still be in my tree
The children are starting to come back
The ravens are backing cawing in the trees
There is new fish in the pond
There are new buds on the trees
It is Spring now but soon it will change
Soon it will change
Soon it will change into Summer
I’ll still be in my tree
Waiting
Watching
Writing
Thinking
Laws and customs may be creative of vice; and should be therefore perpetually under process of observation and correction: but laws and customs cannot be creative of virtue: they may encourage and help to preserve it; but they cannot originate it.
quote by Harriet Martineau
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Nakedness
Why should i see the nakedness of my people in the name of modern fashions?
For the 'Acapulco acts of fashions' had enhanced immorality;
But, they are too blind to see.
They do have mirrors in their dressing rooms but,
They always come out dressed almost naked to the public! !
And now you understand what i am saying.
Yes, everybody knows the message!
But they are too blind to practise what is right;
And the whole world is now deceived in the name of naked fashion.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Failed Love-war
When their steadfast love
Waged war against the world
They never asked their religion
He never asked her
To change her religion
To change her name
At the culmination
Of the love- war against all
The universe
The Gods
He asked her
To wipe out the vermilion dot
On her fore-head
To break her bangles
To suit to his religion!
She stood with him
To wage war against
Her religion
Her beliefs
Her village diktat
Yet for a sublime love
Untained with religion
The caste or beliefs!
He commanded her
To immerse
In his religion, belief
And caste customs
And customs of the clan
The love converted her
To his religion, belief
And clan to keep
The nuptial knot intact!
He lost nothing for the love
But she lost everything for it
It was he who emboldened
Her to accept the Christ,
The prophet and Jahoa
With no discrimination
As the fundamentals took sword!
As the black shadows
Of disbelief crept in
She as defeated warrior
As the failed crusader
Abandoned and hood -winked
Asked him on parting:
Can you not love me
With no identity
But with the identity as women
Whom you found at first sight!
poem by Vadakkumpurath Ramesan
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Poeticsphere-Two_
1) Outside the mainstream poetry
2) Cutting edge poetics -depths of the known and unknown
2) 'We can never change things by fighting the existing reality.To change something build a new model that makes the existing model outside.'(R.Buck Minster Fuller)
3) no songs, no catwalks, no fashions, no contests & no victory
4) Only poeticsphere (TWO) , an alternative to existing recycled reality
Imitation
Wandering from the parent bough,
Little, trembling leaf,
Whither goest thou?
'From the beech, where I was born,
By the north wind was I torn.
Him I follow in his flight,
Over mountain, over vale,
From the forest to the plain,
Up the hill, and down again.
With him ever on the way:
More than that, I cannot say.
Where I go, must all things go,
Gentle, simple, high and low:
Leaves of laurel, leaves of rose;
Whither, heaven only knows!'
poem by Count Giacomo Leopardi
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Fallen Leaves
Why should I be the first to fall
Of all the leaves on this old tree?
Though sadly soon I know that all
Will lose their hold and follow me.
While my birth-brothers bravely blow,
Why should I be first to go?
Why should I be the last to cling
Of all the leaves on this bleak bough?
I've fluttered since the fire of Spring
And I am worn and withered now.
I would escape the Winter gale
And sleep soft-silvered by a snail.
When swoop the legions of the snow
To pitch their tents in roaring weather
We fallen leaves will lie below
And rot rejoicingly together;
And from our rich and dark decay
Will laugh our brothers of the May.
poem by Robert William Service
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Comin Into Los Angeles
Coming in from london from over the pole
Flying in a big airliner
Chicken flying everywhere around the plane
Could we ever feel much finer
Coming into los angeles
Bringing in a couple of keys
Dont touch my bags if you please
Mister customs man, man
Theres a guy with a ticket to mexico
Could he ever look much stranger
Walking in the hall with his things and all
Smiling, said he was the lone ranger
Coming into los angeles,
Bringing in a couple of keys
Dont touch my bags if you please
Mister customs man, man
Hip woman walking on a moving floor
Tripping on the escalator
Theres a man in the line, and shes blowing his mind
Thinking that hes already made her
Coming into los angeles,
Bringing in a couple of keys
Dont touch my bags if you please
Mister customs man, man
Coming into los angeles,
Bringing in a couple of keys
Dont touch my bags if you please
Mister customs man, man
Coming into los angeles,
Bringing in a couple of keys
Dont touch my bags if you please
Mister customs man, man
song performed by by America
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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