I have fed purely upon ale; I have eat my ale, drank my ale, and I always sleep upon ale.
quote by George Farquhar
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Truth is here
Truth is here in the history
In the civilisation fully
Resumed and it is a poem.
The relation we have made
With the stone with the flower
With the bird with the sky
Not ours.
The truth is in our
Poetic world ours only ours
And we move forward
In search of another world
That is purely poetic
Purely in truth
Purely in peace
Purely in harmony.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I sung sometimes
I sung sometimes my thoughts’ and fancy's pleasure,
Where then I list, or time serv’d best and leisure,
While Daphne did invite me
To supper once, and drank to me to spite me.
I smil’d, yet still did doubt her,
And drank where she had drank before, to flout her.
But oh while I did eye her,
My eyes drank love, my lips drank burning fire.
poem by John Wilbye
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Yet humanitarianism is not a purely Christian movement any more than it is a purely humanist one.
quote by Christopher Dawson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dedicated to ppl who dont sleep
Sleep, sleep, sleep
It’s magnificent and nice,
With dreams beyond wonder,
Sleep! sleep! sleep!
Sleep, sleep, sleep
Eyes tightly closed,
A little smile on you r cheeks,
Feeling the ambiance
Of the pure and precious sleep,
Sleep! sleep! sleep!
Sleep, sleep, sleep
Forgetting insane things of the mixed world outside
Relax my dear, feel the gentle breeze,
Do not worry about tomorrow, do not weep,
Wake up fresh in the morning with a recuperate mind,
Fresh and blessed with a wonderful sleep,
SLEEP, SLEEP, SLEEP!
poem by Tejaswini Iyer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sleep Comes Down
it's raining in my head
but no tears come down
and i'm dreaming of you
until sleep comes around
sleep comes down sleep comes down
sleep comes down sleep comes down
the orchestra's playing
it's so very loud
and i'm biting my nails
until sleep comes around
sleep comes down sleep comes down
sleep comes down sleep comes down
the clouds are all running
but no tears come down
and i'm thinking of you
until sleep comes around
sleep comes down sleep comes down
sleep comes down sleep comes down
song performed by by Flaming Lips
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Alcohol
When I was nearly round the bend
I turned to you,
I had a drink or two,
I thought that you would help, False Friend!
And so I drank and drank and drank,
And hoped that you would fill the void!
But look at me now, defeated and destroyed,
My misery will never end,
What can I do?
Where is my hope?
Where are the things that I enjoyed?
How can I cope?
By finishing with you, False Friend!
This is the End! !
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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There Will Never Be Another
There will never be another
Who will love me like you.
There will never be another
Who could hold me, mold me.
There will never be another
Who could love me purely.
No, there will never be another
Who has loved me like you.
And I know that there will never be another love
Who could ever be the love that you are.
cause you had so much to lose, but still you gave it up
For your scars.
But thats the way you are.
And if I spent my life attending universities,
Educated in the wisdom of men,
And if I could even quote a guy like socrates,
Even then,
I couldnt comprehend
That there will never be another
Who will love me like you.
There will never be another
Who could hold me, mold me.
There will never be another
Who could love me purely.
No, there will never be another
Who has loved me like you.
And I know Ill never understand the mystery
If I live to be a hundred and three,
How you died to live the love you give to me.
That there will never be another
Who will love me like you.
There will never be another
Who could hold me, mold me.
There will never be another
Who could love me purely.
No, there will never be another
Who has loved me like you.
There will never be another
Who has loved me like you.
song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Boy Growing Up In The Sixties
Played football
played marbles
played cricket
played truant.
First girl
first kiss
first fumble
first slap.
Drank orange
drank Cola
drank lemonade
drank beer.
Acted tough
acted silly
acted up
acted the fool.
Just young
just a boy
just a lad
just me.
The sixties
The Beatles
The Stones
The Who.
Great days
great times
great decade
Great Britain.
poem by Kevin Halls
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A Little Long Time
At breakfast tea & some toast are nice
the TV's on I'm lying in bed
My feed are cold and my cheeks are red
I pat my real fat cat
Nobody knows my secret dreams,
Nobody knows why I can't sleep
But if you ever felt before
like I feel now you know much more.
A little long time I watched TV
A little long time I drank my tea
A little long time I tapped my feet
But all the time I thought of you
The spinach tastes like raspberry jelly
The snow sounds like the buzzards bees
The rain is like the childrens laughter
And everything is like a dream.
A little long time I watched TV
A little long time I drank my tea
A little long time I tapped my feet
But all the time I thought of you
A little long time I watched TV
A little long time I drank my tea
A little long time I tapped my feet
But all the time I thought of you
song performed by by Wonderwall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sleep! Sleep! Sleep!
SLEEP
Sleep, sleep, sleep
It’s magnificent and nice,
With dreams beyond wonder,
Sleep! sleep! sleep!
Sleep, sleep, sleep
Eyes tightly closed,
A little smile on you r cheeks,
Feeling the warm sensations
Of the pure and precious sleep,
Sleep! sleep! sleep!
Sleep, sleep, sleep
Forgetting insane things of the mixed world outside
Relax my little one, feel the gentle breeze,
Do not worry about tomorrow, do not weep,
Wake up fresh in the morn with a recuperated mind,
Fresh and blessed with a wonderful sleep,
SLEEP, SLEEP, SLEEP!
JERINE JAMES (3RD JULY 07)
poem by Jerine James
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Coffee is a beverage that puts one to sleep when not drank.
quote by Alphonse Allais
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Work, Sleep, Work, Sleep, Work
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work:
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work.
Oh free me please with gentle ease
From work, sleep, work, sleep, work!
This odium, pounding tedium
Of my work, sleep, work, sleep, work.
Just whisk me off to lands afar
From work, sleep, work, sleep, work -
That grinding train of rhythmic pain
Called ‘Work, sleep, work, sleep, work.’
Poor neural circuits fizzle and pop
In work, sleep, work, sleep, work,
In trying to make some sense of all this
Work, sleep, work, sleep, work.
But Hark! I see a golden gleam -
A saving spirit of hope:
‘You’re fired! ’ He screams. What news to bear,
This wondrous hangman’s rope!
So now I’m free, released from all this
Work, sleep, work, sleep, work -
Eternal peace and rest for me, no
Work, sleep, work, sleep, work.
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ringing Eear
Woke up, morning
left ear ringing
Someone calling?
No, overheating.
Mixed some glucose
drank down fructose
It's still ringing
Like a gong
pinging
constant dong
What went wrong?
Lack of sleep?
Sleep not deep?
Lack of water?
Other matter?
I had choc
Dark and smooth
That's what lock
Ear phone booth.
Sleeper
Sleep that half dead,
sleep the body not the head.
Sleep that bad said,
Poor owns that bed,
Dreams are found on that herd.
Sleep while awake,
Sleep that dead not closed eye fake.
Sleep that weak,
Tommorow u gona take.
Eat that sleep and enjoy its steak.
Sleep still stands,
None to overtake.
Sleep that height dare for cake.
Sleep that stress and have the bless,
Sleep to confess as she do to embrance,
Sleep for paid cash as he do to love false.
Sleep that sleep as no one sleep ever deep.
Sleep that better as no other sleeper.
Wear that sweater as did Brother Peter,
Sleep that firm to dream that greater,
Sleep not slopy arrise all the weaker.
poem by Abdallah Mpogole
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stewball
(yellin / rinzler / herald)
Old stewball was a racehorse
And I wished he were mine
He never drank water
He always drank wine
His bridle was silver
And his mane it was gold
But worth of his saddle
Has never been told
The fairgrounds was crowded
And old stewball was there
But the betting was heavy
On the bay and the mare
Oh, way up yonder
Ahead of them all
Came prancing and dancing
My noble stewball
If I bet on the grey mare
And I bet on the bay
And if Id bet on old stewball
Id be a free man today
Oh, the hoot owl she hollers
And the turtle dove moans
Im a poor boy in trouble
Im a long way from home
Old stewball was a racehorse
And I wished he was mine
He never drank water
He always drank wine
song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Water Fountain
I drank glasses of water,
I drank water from office coolers.
Many people drank from water fountains.
I thought my thirst I could slake,
If I drank water from a cool lake.
Then I would would drink cold water,
From gushing waterfalls.
But much to my surprise,
I thirsted for all of Earth's water.
I couldn't fathom my inner self,
About slaking my thirst insatiable.
I couldn't come to grips about,
The deep waters of my life.
Was it my body? Or was it my soul?
Then I very quickly learned,
That this thirst for water that was burning in me,
Was my unending thirst for love
That everybody yearns for.
And everybody needs.
In quantities of glasses, coolers, waterfalls,
Lakes, oceans and seas.
poem by Vera Sidhwa
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The Ballet Of The Fifth Year
Where the sea gulls sleep or indeed where they fly
Is a place of different traffic. Although I
Consider the fishing bay (where I see them dip and curve
And purely glide) a place that weakens the nerve
Of will, and closes my eyes, as they should not be
(They should burn like the street-light all night quietly,
So that whatever is present will be known to me),
Nevertheless the gulls and the imagination
Of where they sleep, which comes to creation
In strict shape and color, from their dallying
Their wings slowly, and suddenly rallying
Over, up, down the arabesque of descent,
Is an old act enacted, my fabulous intent
When I skated, afraid of policemen, five years old,
In the winter sunset, sorrowful and cold,
Hardly attained to thought, but old enough to know
Such grace, so self-contained, was the best escape to know.
poem by Delmore Schwartz
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Sleep No Man Desires
There is a sleep no man desires
There is something about that sleep
That sends fear down the hearts of men
That world unknown yet revered by fear
That surrounds a man when he goes to sleep
It is the sleep of the tired women
It is the sleep of the defeated elands
It is the sleep that makes the hyenas laugh
It is the sleep that feeds the vultures
It is the sleep that no man loves
But is the eventual sleep for all that breaths
It is the sleep of paradise
A paradise so desired for good deeds on earth
Yet it is the sleep that hounds the aged and the poor
A sleep that embraces the dying
A sleep that knows no class
It is the silent sleep on angels' chariots
Take a pillow and courage to slip into it
Courage, be brave and face that sleep
That sleep that frightens the mighty
That sleep that is wild on eart
That sleep that has no path
That is hated and more than loathed
A sleep that captured great men of history
It is the sleep of the GONE.
poem by Major Elazia
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Sleep, Sleep
Sleep, sleep lazy fool
You’ve fought to long
And now you’re free to tool
Don’t wake blind maiden
Sleep, sleep small child
There are terrors to come
You won’t sleep forever
Cause you’ll never be done
Sleep, sleep little blossom
Because that’s all you can do
Sleep, the sleep of dreamers
And wake again a new
poem by Eric Andrew James
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Maria's Lullaby
An extract from a poem written for my grandchildren to Brahms Lullaby
Sleep; little mice sleep
Mother will watch over you
Shut your eyes and don't peek
Tomorrow the skies will be blue
Sleep; little mice sleep.
Sleep; little mice sleep
No harm will come whilst I am here
The sun has gone down by the peak
When the day dawns it will appear
Sleep; little mice sleep.
Sleep; little mice sleep
Your father is watching the house
That no owl or cat dares to seek
Harm to creatures or mouse
Sleep; little mice sleep.
Sleep; little mice sleep
Tomorrow you run and play
Now is not time to speak
When you awake a new day
Sleep; little mice sleep.
Sleep; little mice sleep
Rest now for your own sake
Shut your eyes now be asleep
I will be here when you awake
Sleep; little mice sleep.
poem by Thomas Golding
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