The vine bears three kinds of grapes: the first of pleasure, the second of intoxication, the third of disgust.
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We ought to do good to others as simply as a horse runs, or a bee makes honey, or a vine bears grapes season after season without thinking of the grapes it has borne.
quote by Marcus Aurelius
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love On The Vine
I came home yesterday
To the love that I left behind
It seems Ive been far away, yeah
But I know that the berrys ripe on the vine
And I know that the grapes will soon turn to wine
Yes I know Ill be there just in time to love you
I guess I just ran away (I just ran away)
Tried to see what I could not find (what I could not find)
Its been a one act play, yeah
But I know that the berrys ripe on the vine
And I know that the grapes will soon turn to wine
And I know Ill be there just in time to love you
Ive been wasting time (wasting time)
With this old heart of mine (this old heart of mine)
Working it overtime, ah, ah, ah, ah
Just another blue day
Like the ones that I left behind
I know its easy to say, yeah
But I know that the berrys ripe on the vine
And I know that the grapes will soon turn to wine
Yes I know Ill be there just in time to love you
Oh and I know that the berrys ripe on the vine
And I know that the grapes will soon turn to wine
Yes I know Ill be there just in time to love you
Love you on the vine, oh on the vine
Love you on the vine, oh on the vine
I love you on the vine, oh on the vine, ah
On the vine, oh on the vine ...
song performed by by America
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The vine brings forth three grapes: the first of pleasure, the second of drunkenness, the third of sorrow.
Diamonds In The Mine
The woman in blue, shes asking for revenge,
Man in white -- thats you -- says he has no friends.
The river is swollen up with rusty cans
And the trees are burning in your promised land.
And there are no letters in the mailbox,
And there are no grapes upon the vine,
And there are no chocolates in the boxes anymore,
And there are no diamonds in the mine.
Well, you tell me that your lover has a broken limb,
You say youre kind of restless now and its on account of him.
Well, I saw the man in question, it was just the other night,
He was eating up a lady where the lions and christians fight.
And there are no letters in the mailbox
And there are no grapes upon the vine,
And there are no chocolates in the boxes anymore,
And there are no diamonds in the mine.
(you tell them now)
Ah, there is no comfort in the covens of the witch,
Some very clever doctor went and sterilized the bitch,
And the only man of energy, yes the revolutions pride,
He trained a hundred women just to kill an unborn child.
And there are no letters in the mailbox,
Oh no, there are no, no grapes upon your vine,
And there are, there are no chocolates in your boxes anymore,
And there are no diamonds in your mine,
And there are no letters in the mailbox,
And there are no grapes upon the vine,
And there are no chocolates in your boxes anymore,
And there are no diamonds in your mine.
song performed by by Leonard Cohen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The extreme pleasure
Pleasure of luxuries,
Pleasure of victories
Or pleasure of any other kinds
Cannot stand against
The pleasure of conquest of woman,
For all potential men.
29.04.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Sonnet: Jesus, the Grape-Vine
“I am the Vine: You be its branch always.”
Jesus is succor and our nourishment;
Allow the sap to flow to bless your days;
There will be no defeat or punishment.
’Tis easy being branch with leaves and fruits;
We help the vine to grow luxuriously;
The starch that’s made makes sturdy trunk and roots;
The wine from grapes will soothe hearts curiously.
A broken branch will lose its life quite soon;
A leafless one is useless to the vine;
A fruitless one is bane and not a boon;
With God, we make our earthly days divine.
The vine is proud to make the best of wine;
With God’s will done, man’s soul looks rather fine!
poem by John Celes
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All Kinds Of Time
The clocks running down
the teams losing ground
to the opposing defense
the young quarterback
waits for the snap
when suddenly it all starts to make sense
he's got all kinds of time
he's got all kinds of time
all kinds of time
he's got all kinds of time
all kinds of time
he takes a step back
he's under attack
but he knows that no one can touch him now
he seems so at ease
a strange inner peace
its all that he's feeling somehow
he's got all kinds of time
he's got all kinds of time
all kinds of time
he's got all kinds of time
all kinds of time
he thinks of his mother
he thinks of his bride to be
he thinks of his father
his two younger brothers
gathered around the wide screen t.v.
he looks to the left
he looks to the right
and there in a golden ray of light
and there his open man
just like he planned
the world is his tonight
he's got all kinds of time
he's got all kinds of time
all kinds of time
he's got all kinds of time
all kinds of time
song performed by by Fountains Of Wayne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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She Takes
She takes one step back
And falls to the ground
Can not seem to stop laughing
Joking they say to all she has done
Not nearly what she sees tonight
All kinds of time she says
All kinds of time
She has all kinds of time
Drinking with despair they take her down
Throwing it all around
She has no money to spare
As she ask for help from her friends
All kinds of time he says
All kinds of time
He has all kinds of time
Writing it all for him to see
The way he use to be
No father around as she passes out
From not sleeping she's been wishing
All kinds of time they say
All kinds of time
All kinds of time to break her down
Nothing around as she picks herself up
In a place that has no name
Came on a bus with a bottle
She's been drinking
She settles down with no help
Can't remember the last night she felt sound
All kinds of time she says
All kinds of time
She has all kinds of time
poem by Sara Pounds
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Tarantella - Sour Grapes
I admitted that I am utterly charming;
my specialty is to feed sour grapes,
to femmes causing a total disarming,
from this entrancing, none escapes.
After we jumped on the sand dunes,
and fighting against untamed sharks,
twas the hour of listening to tunes,
vented by an orbiting of love quarks.
I danced barefooted on the grapes,
on vigorous must-making tarantella,
thus I approached your curvy shapes,
hmm.. I knew your name was Stella! !
Was it not? While dancing I kissed,
those sour grapes you were holding,
and you insisted that I had to feed,
one by one the grapes on beholding.
What was that name; maybe Maria?
(stiff memory never helped my brain)
O, sour grapes! I called you Allegria,
singing Rossini's 'La Danza' refrain.
You stated you loved only the must,
your vine crown spelled 'Angioletta';
it did not? This loss made me aghast,
I thought Rossini called you Giulietta!
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Don't
Don’t take me to that place of lust
where desire turns to deep disgust.
Don’t take me to even greater depths
where pleasure sinks to deep regrets.
Don’t abandon me in erotic dreams
and let me drown in flooded streams.
Don’t exchange my love for lust
and leave me feeling with disgust.
poem by Orlando Belo
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Clusters Of Grapes
as God nature creates complete
a bunch of grapes growing on vine
each grape an interlocked fold skin
of original envisioned composition
so too human architect craftsman
creates cultivates ideas to time define
each grape is picked complete from vine
each grape is perfect as singular complete
an orb idea formed vine ripe fertile complete
each grape is taste savoured relished eaten
peel me a grape of an idea complete eaten
slave starves creates each gilded grape given
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Foxes in My Vineyard
One fair even, at the eve of last summer,
In the green and fertile country fields
Where grew luscious ears of 'eschol' grapes
I lingered by the Ploughman's hedge
Held in glee as plush tendrils cloaked tall stakes
And far afield, an endless pleach of virid vines.
I sought to see the blest, plush plums
Sired by those lustful ears of vine
''Those too, ought be plummy plush'', thought i
For to strum of the grapes there borne i craved
But lo, the vines though lush, the grapes...? All gone!
I scarce could take it true
For harvest yet looms a distant far!
But who had wrought this spiteful deed,
And where had all the green grapes gone?
But soon lunged forth a fox for the brushes green
Twas meet to set my curious soul yet agrief.
And so mused i, how like this vineyard green
A many a fellow, squalor within, splendour without!
Bade bare by ravenous foxes lot
For whilst we shy behind swaddling folds at the blush of dawn
A vixen creepeth in the meadow without!
poem by Nwaga Philip
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To Give Tomorrow Less Reason To Exist
So gone but with a going on,
Are those yesterdays living...
Within my mind.
To find and give time.
Clinging like grapes,
Yet to ripen on a vine.
Are those yesterdays remembered.
As if to forever live.
Giving tomorrow less reason to exist.
As those yesterdays gone,
Cling on and on permitted unresisted.
Like unripened grapes on a vine,
To watch and give more time to find.
So gone but with a going on,
Are those yesterdays living...
Within my mind.
To find and give time.
Clinging like grapes,
Yet to ripen on a vine.
Are those yesterdays remembered.
As if to forever live.
Giving tomorrow less reason to exist.
As those yesterdays gone,
Cling on unresisted.
Giving tomorrow less reason to exist.
As those yesterdays gone,
Cling on unresisted.
As those yesterdays cling on unresisted,
To give tomorrow less reason to exist.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Wine Of Love
We take a sip of the wine
that runs through our lives.
The wine of love most purest
that comes from the tenderest grapes
upon the vine.
We sip a little each day
praying it will never go away.
The wine of love
that runs through our lives each day.
Providing the vine doesn’t whither
our love will become fulfilled
with love forever after
our cup is empty and bare.
19 March 2008
poem by David Harris
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In Vino Verities
Think of it as a thirst for Truth
That can’t be quenched by dry Vermouth.
Those souls who in the bottle find
a sauce of solace for troubled minds.
Because I can conceive of wine,
Somewhere there grows a fruitful vine.
Existence made certain by concept possible-
an essential premise Ontological.
From the grapes sweet nectar flows
To please the palate and charm the nose.
Its mysteries bring blurred speech and vision
At bottle’s bottom they find religion...
Some seek their Truth on distant peaks
From Fakirs dressed in linen sheets.
Some in bare ruined choirs dwell
With thoughts of Heaven spiced with Hell.
Still others have declared wine evil
An attitude I find Medieval
Their wine grapes meet a sadder fate
reduced to raisins on a plate.
From Vine to press, from field to glass
A boon companion to Life’s repast.
Red or White, no cause for Schism
A sommelier hears your catechism.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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Untitled VW
I'm watching with my cold eyes
How were all those innocents died
Even your sound your look makes me disgust
About what you tried to threaten
and it will never end
I just cry for the paper I have'nt paid
I received with granted
It's nothing just a warm-heart
To the kinds who should be ode
poem by by unknown author
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To the eyes of a miser a guinea is more beautiful than the sun, and a bag worn with the use of money has more beautiful proportions than a vine filled with grapes.
quote by William Blake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Medicine Man
Many distant miles away
Past the shores of ever dark
There stays a magic man
Who bears an evil mark
He helps all concerned
Those who come again return
Injecting lies while fires burn
The devil's heart
With angel's words
Have you wondered
What heaven's like?
He can show you in one night
Overwhelming with euphoric lift
To lure you to steal your gift
Intoxication
Seeping down to the bone
And there's no question
Where you have to go
Understand just take his hand
He's the medicine man
Once proud and fearless men
With desire in their eyes
Lost strong and fruitful lives
To self-indulgent ties
Their souls were dipped in venom
And put into a box
Then placed upon a crowded shelf
Where countless souls now rot
Have you ever wondered what hell's like?
He can take you there
Just one taste and you'll be back
And by the high you'll swear
Intoxication
Seeping down to the bone
And there's no question
Where you have to go
Understand just take his hand
He's the medicine man
song performed by by Pantera from Reinventing The Steel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Bee (Chapter 16, Verses 66-67, Holy Koran)
I ask for refuge to Allah from Satan the exiled evildoer.
In the name of Allah the Kind and the Merciful Giver.
And surely there is a lesson for you in the cattle
We give you pure milk
Which is produced in their bellies
And delivered through blood vessel.
As for the drinkers, it's easy and agreeable.
And from the fruits of the palm and the grapes
You obtain intoxication
As well as goodly provision
Surely there is a sign in it
For the people with vision.
poem by Asif Andalib
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