Individuality
Phew! 'T'is a stuffy and a stupid place,
This social edifice by Custom wrought -
This fenced enclosure wherein all are caught,
The great and small, the noble and the base,
And squeezed and flattened to one common face.
Air, air for springing fancy, errant thought!
Scope to make something of the seeming nought!
Room for the fleet foot and the open race!
Break out, O brother, braver than the rest,
Lover of Liberty, whose arm is strong!
Buttress our independence with thy breast,
And fight a passage through the stagnant throng.
Many will press behind thee, but they need
The stalwart captain, not afraid to lead.
poem by Ada Cambridge
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Related quotes
Aien Aristeuein (Motto of St. Andrews University)
Ever to be the best. To lead
In whatsoever things are true;
Not stand among the halting crew
The faint of heart, the feeble-kneed,
Who tarry for a certain sign
To make them follow with the rest --
Oh, let not their reproach be thine!
But ever be the best.
For want of this aspiring soul,
Great deeds on earth remain undone,
But, sharpened by the sight of one,
Many shall press toward the goal,
Thou running foremost of the throng,
The fire of striving in thy breast,
Shalt win, although the race be long,
And ever be the best.
And wilt thou question of the prize?
'Tis not of silver or of gold,
Nor in applauses manifold,
But hidden in the heart it lies.
To know that but for thee not one
Had run the race or sought the quest,
To know that thou hast ever done
And ever been the best.
poem by Robert Fuller Murray
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Life's Mighty Flood
WHAT is wrought in the forge of the living and life--
All things are nought! Ho! fill me the bowl,
For nought is the gear of the world and the strife!
One passion has quickened the heart and the soul,
The Beloved's presence alone they have sought--
Love at least exists; yet if Love were not,
Heart and soul would sink to the common lot--
All things are nought!
Like an empty cup is the fate of each,
That each must fill from Life's mighty flood;
Nought thy toil, though to Paradise gate thou reach,
If Another has filled up thy cup with blood;
Neither shade from the sweet-fruited trees could be bought
By thy praying-oh Cypress of Truth, dost not see
That Sidreh and Tuba were nought, and to thee
All then were nought!
The span of thy life is as five little days,
Brief hours and swift in this halting-place;
Rest softly, ah rest! while the Shadow delays,
For Time's self is nought and the dial's face.
On the lip of Oblivion we linger, and short
Is the way from the Lip to the Mouth where we pass
While the moment is thine, fill, oh Saki, the glass
Ere all is nought!
Consider the rose that breaks into flower,
Neither repines though she fade and die--
The powers of the world endure for an hour,
But nought shall remain of their majesty.
Be not too sure of your crown, you who thought
That virtue was easy and recompense yours;
From the monastery to the wine-tavern doors
The way is nought
What though I, too, have tasted the salt of my tears,
Though I, too, have burnt in the fires of grief,
Shall I cry aloud to unheeding ears?
Mourn and be silent! nought brings relief.
Thou, Hafiz, art praised for the songs thou hast wrought,
But bearing a stained or an honoured name,
The lovers of wine shall make light of thy fame--
All things are nought!
poem by Shams al-Din Hafiz
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Ardelia to Melancholy
At last, my old inveterate foe,
No opposition shalt thou know.
Since I by struggling, can obtain
Nothing, but encrease of pain,
I will att last, no more do soe,
Tho' I confesse, I have apply'd
Sweet mirth, and musick, and have try'd
A thousand other arts beside,
To drive thee from my darken'd breast,
Thou, who hast banish'd all my rest.
But, though sometimes, a short repreive they gave,
Unable they, and far too weak, to save;
All arts to quell, did but augment thy force,
As rivers check'd, break with a wilder course.
Freindship, I to my heart have laid,
Freindship, th' applauded sov'rain aid,
And thought that charm so strong wou'd prove,
As to compell thee, to remove;
And to myself, I boasting said,
Now I a conqu'rer sure shall be,
The end of all my conflicts, see,
And noble tryumph, wait on me;
My dusky, sullen foe, will sure
N'er this united charge endure.
But leaning on this reed, ev'n whilst I spoke
It peirc'd my hand, and into peices broke.
Still, some new object, or new int'rest came
And loos'd the bonds, and quite disolv'd the claim.
These failing, I invok'd a Muse,
And Poetry wou'd often use,
To guard me from thy Tyrant pow'r;
And to oppose thee ev'ry hour
New troops of fancy's, did I chuse.
Alas! in vain, for all agree
To yeild me Captive up to thee,
And heav'n, alone, can sett me free.
Thou, through my life, wilt with me goe,
And make ye passage, sad, and slow.
All, that cou'd ere thy ill gott rule, invade,
Their uselesse arms, before thy feet have laid;
The Fort is thine, now ruin'd, all within,
Whilst by decays without, thy Conquest too, is seen.
poem by Anne Kingsmill Finch
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Prize For Comments
I wish here a good prize for comments
It may then be called nice movement
Rare phenomena to encourage new poets
Who otherwise remain in oblivion and prefer to be quiet
We can force no one to read
Yet can provide clue to lead
A momentum to make thrust
For developing skill and trust
Generally I see prominent people find the place
Rest all are seemed to be left out of race
Only few people adore the quarter
Rest all are awaiting break for their starter
Poems do emerge in human mind
As it is divine place to rest and find
What can be beneficial to intelligent people?
As rest even may not understand after making great struggle
I wish and plead for something to prove concrete
Let for one post at least two new comers are greeted
With the deserving comment if that is due
If not by readers then editors must view
With this noble ideas the base may be expanded
The courtesy and honor must be extended
We may have lot many hidden jewels
Those may find light and certainly excel
Just a wish and nothing in person
Yet that must be taken positively with reasons
We may surely fuel the new energy on horizon
Where old and new may combined from all zones
It may not take place in days ahead
But my humble views may certainly be read
Any attempt at revival may afterward then be certainly dead
If we fail to gasp the mood and provide the lead
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Captain America
Captain America is that you
Flying down the highway
In your red white and blue
You remind me of the days
In that infamous war
When we werent quite sure
What we were fighting for
I see you again and it makes me think
About just who I am
Is there someone in charge
Who can lead the way tonight
Who knows the plan
Where theres love
There is grace
Theres still hope left in this place
And the smile on your face
Gives me faith in the human race
Captain America what do you see
Millions of your brothers say theyll fight to be free
Who could have known you would be the chosen one
To kick start our dreams
The cycle of life goes around and round again
Tell me what does it mean
Can it be true
Where theres love
There is grace
And theres hope left in this place
And the smile on your face
Gives me faith in the human
If we could trade all of our tomorrows
For the best of our yesterdays
Erase all the pain and the sorrow
Would there have to be a high price to pay
Hey Hey
We run for our lives
And were searching for shelter now
From the coming storm
Are you the man who can lead us once again
So come on, suit up, lets go
Where theres love
There is grace
And theres hope left in this place
And the smile on your face
Theres not a damn thing we cant face
Where theres love
There is grace
And theres hope left in this place
And the smile on your face
Gives me faith in the human
Faith in the human race
Yeah, I got faith
song performed by by Styx
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Renouncement
I must not think of thee; and, tired yet strong,
I shun the love that lurks in all delight--
The love of thee--and in the blue heaven's height,
And in the dearest passage of a song.
Oh, just beyond the sweetest thoughts that throng
This breast, the thought of thee waits hidden yet bright;
But it must never, never come in sight;
I must stop short of thee the whole day long.
But when sleep comes to close each difficult day,
When night gives pause to the long watch I keep,
And all my bonds I needs must loose apart,
Must doff my will as raiment laid away,--
With the first dream that comes with the first sleep
I run, I run, I am gather'd to thy heart.
poem by Alice Meynell
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Race
Lie down, [fair 1//pheromone], and come away
Till the rain is over and gone
G-g-gimme the beat now (face the music)
Lead line (face the music)
If the air is a little thick in this room 2nite
I reckon its the result of an onslaught of separatist rookies
Overcome by this colorful sight
Talkin so fast that even they
Talkin so fast that even they
Dont know what they mean
Of all the things that base a rhyme
How is it that u everytime
Regurgitate the racist lines that keep us apart?
Thank God this aint monopoly
Ud make us all go back 2 start
Race
In the space I mark human (face the music)
Race
Face the music
We all bones when we dead
Race
In the space I mark human (face the music)
Cut me, cut u
Both the blood is red
I gotcha
Race
Race
Check it
Three seats over theres a lady black
Entrusted 2 her care is a little white girl
And the fact of the matter is
Before her momma or another kid at school
Tells her about the fallacy that 1 race rules over the other
Shed be a much-better-off-left fool (face the music)
If we never heard about the evils that those before us committed
Then how my dear, tell me now how my dear, tell me now how now would we know
And then the band say
Race
In the space I mark human (face the music)
Race
Face the music
We all bones when we dead
Race
In the space I mark human (face the music)
Cut me, cut u
Both the blood is red
I gotcha
Race
Race
(face the music)
D-d-down with h-i-s-t-o-r-y and all this bs propagandi
Keepin u from me and me from u as we grow
I dont wanna know (I dont wanna know)
Why those before us hated each other
Id rather believe they never did
Id rather believe (Id rather, Id rather believe)
That theres hope 4 a kid
And if he imitates the best
I guess thats what Ill try 2 be
And I will let the rest dissolve with my guitar underneath the sea
Race
(face face face face face)
Face the music (face the music)
Face the music
Race
In the space I mark human (face the music)
Race
Face the music
We all bones when we dead
Race
In the space I mark human (face the music)
Cut me, cut u
Both the blood is red
Get it?
Race
Got it
Race
Face the music
Race race
(face face face the music)
Race race
(face face face the music)
Race race
Race race
(face-f-face the music)
Race
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Conqueror's Sleep
Sleep 'midst thy banners furl'd!
Yes! thou art there, upon thy buckler lying,
With the soft wind unfelt around thee sighing,
Thou chief of hosts, whose trumpet shakes the world!
Sleep while the babe sleeps on its mother's breast-
-Oh! strong is night-for thou too art at rest!
Stillness hath smooth'd thy brow,
And now might love keep timid vigils by thee,
Now might the foe with stealthy foot draw nigh thee,
Alike unconscious and defenceless thou!
Tread lightly, watchers!-now the field is won,
Break not the rest of nature's weary son!
Perchance some lovely dream
Back from the stormy fight thy soul is bearing,
To the green places of thy boyish daring,
And all the windings of thy native stream;
-Why, this were joy!-upon the tented plain,
Dream on, thou Conqueror!-be a child again!
But thou wilt wake at morn,
With thy strong passions to the conflict leaping,
And thy dark troubled thoughts, all earth o'ersweeping,
-So wilt thou rise, oh! thou of woman born!
And put thy terrors on, till none may dare
Look upon thee-the tired one, slumbering there!
Why, so the peasant sleeps
Beneath his vine!-and man must kneel before thee,
And for his birthright vainly still implore thee!
Shalt thou be stay'd because thy brother weeps?
-Wake! and forget that 'midst a dreaming world,
Thou hast lain thus, with all thy banners furl'd!
Forget that thou, ev'n thou,
Hast feebly shiver'd when the wind pass'd o'er thee,
And sunk to rest upon the earth which bore thee,
And felt the night-dew chill thy fever'd brow!
Wake with the trumpet, with the spear press on!
-Yet shall the dust take home its mortal son.
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
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Lover, Brother
Are you my brother or lover, brother?
don´t be my mother lover!
kiss you my brother lover
can´t be your mother, brother
never found you in the arms of another
Are you my lover, brother?
don´t touch my mother lover!
kiss you and not another
find out the love to your mother, brother
don´t even mistreat my brother, mother
Are you like my brother, lover?
don´t hate my mother lover!
kiss me instead of my mother, brother
not even be afraid of my brother, mother
we are the same but another
Are you my friend sweet brother?
please get in touch with my lover!
but do not kiss each other, brother
´cause he´s my lover, brother
treat him as your brother, my lover
Why aren´t lovers like brothers?
why mothers not like lovers!
kissing my man and not another, brother
but love you too my mother, never another
together we can treat us like brothers, brother.
@floydfloydson
(c) uni-verse.de 12.20.2011
poem by Floyd Floydson
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Sonnet 44: If the dull substance of my flesh were thought
If the dull substance of my flesh were thought,
Injurious distance should not stop my way;
For then despite of space I would be brought,
From limits far remote, where thou dost stay.
No matter then although my foot did stand
Upon the farthest earth removed from thee;
For nimble thought can jump both sea and land
As soon as think the place where he would be.
But, ah, thought kills me that I am not thought,
To leap large lengths of miles when thou art gone,
But that, so much of earth and water wrought,
I must attend time's leisure with my moan,
Receiving nought by elements so slow,
But heavy tears, badges of either's woe.
poem by William Shakespeare
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Two Soldiers, Two Sisters Each
So proud we stood,
My sister, Marge, and me-
Our brother, Bruce,
As he was meant to be-
And who'd of thought?
Our country 'tis of thee,
Sweet land of liberty,
Of thee we sing, and send
Our brother, Bruce.
While over there,
Somewhere across the sea,
Two other fools,
With brother proud to be-
And he so brave,
To save his family
And keep his country free-
His death for liberty-
Wears soldier clothes.
Our brother, Bruce,
Will meet his destiny.
Their brother too,
As he was meant to be,
Will take a life,
Protecting liberty-
That Bruce again won't see
His sisters proud that he
Wore soldier clothes.
To Mary
I sleep with thee, and wake with thee,
And yet thou art not there;
I fill my arms with thoughts of thee,
And press the common air.
Thy eyes are gazing upon mine,
When thou art out of sight;
My lips are always touching thine,
At morning, noon, and night.
I think and speak of other things
To keep my mind at rest:
But still to thee my memory clings
Like love in woman's breast.
I hide it from the world's wide eye,
And think and speak contrary;
But soft the wind comes from the sky,
And whispers tales of Mary.
The night wind whispers in my ear,
The moons shines in my face;
A burden still of chilling fear
I find in every place.
The breeze is whispering in the bush,
And the dews fall from the tree,
All sighing on, and will not hush,
Some pleasant tales of thee.
poem by John Clare
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Thanks To You
I have never thought i could make it through
I have never thought i could take the deception
I have never thought this strength to fight against enemies
Thanks To You
you make me stay strong
strong as a men
you make me stand on my feet
i understand the way life goes
I have ever thought i could take the burn
I have never thought I feel this free
Thanks To You
I never afraid of darkness
I never let people bring me down
Thanks To You..
poem by Guenael Oristel
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Visiting Julie
Chocolates and cigarettes?
Julie says
as you sit in a chair
opposite her
in the rest room
of the hospital
in the psychiatric ward
I thought you'd prefer them
to flowers
you reply
yes
she says
flowers tend to lie
heavy in my gut
and she smiles
and you look at her there
with her dark hair
long but dishevelled
I haven't brushed my hair
or bathed yet
she says
seeing you look at her
but you can scrub my back
if you want
she says
watching you blush
best not
you say looking away
seeing out the window
a small garden
with summer flowers
but sensing
a slight movement
in your groin
at the mere thought
of her suggestion
how did you find me?
she asks
of all the hospitals
and all the wards
in this area
you managed to walk
into mine
she adds
you make me sound
like Bogart to Bacall
you say shyly
how about a drink later
down the road to the bar?
she says
You're permitted to drink
while on drugs?
you ask
studying her eyes
and her lips slightly parted
only cola
she says pulling a face
but at least it gets me
out of this place
for an hour or so
you look at her
a small stirring
still taking place
between your thighs
there's a small room
where they keep brooms
and brushes and such
where we can go
for a quickie
she says
looking at you
studiously
then breaking
into a laugh
at the sight
of your shocked face
some other time
you say
some other place
cigarette?
she asks
opening up
the pack you'd brought
you nod
and she hands you one
between her slim fingers
and you place it
between your lips
and she lights it
with a small red
plastic lighter
and you heave in
and feel the smoke
hit the back
of your throat
she inhales deep
and says
I prefer the ones
that make me float
and you see hollowness
open up in her
and her eyes
become wide open spaces
like cold winter skies.
poem by Terry Collett
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The Two Brave Soldiers
Air -- "The Texas Rangers"
My friends, I pray you listen,
A story I will tell;
It's of two noble soldiers,
And they were known full well;
They were killed in the rebellion,
As you shall plainly hear,
Those brave and noble soldiers,
No danger did they fear.
They enlisted in Grand Rapids,
In eighteen and sixty-two,
'Twas in the month of August,
About the middle, too;
These two brave, noble soldiers,
They joined the cavalry;
They fought to save their country,
United it yet may be.
One of them, a single man,
His name was Martin House;
The other one was married,
His name I'll tell you now.
Abram Bishop was his name;
He was a christian man;
Two soldiers, they were brave, and
They hailed from Michigan.
When they left their native place,
Their friends to them did say;
"Oh! do not go to war boys,
You'd better with us stay;
For if you join the army,
You never will return
To all your friends that love you,
You never will return."
Young House spoke unto his friends:
"I'd rather go," said he,
"I have no wife and children
To weep and mourn for me.
I hear my country calling
For her sons of liberty,
And I, for one must go, friends,
A coward I cannot be."
"We are not afraid of fighting
The rebels, no, not we;
They're bound to make our country
A place for slaves to be.
Our fathers fought before us,
To gain our liberty,
And we, the sons of freemen,
Must fight to keep it free."
"Farewell, farewell to all our friends
That we may leave behind,
If we do never return,
We pray you bear in mind,
If God sees fit to call us,
We are not afraid to die;
Our country, she is calling,
We must bid you all good bye."
It was in Old Virginia,
Those noble soldiers fell,
In the battle of Hanover town,
As many a man can tell.
They fought through many battles,
Obeyed their captain's call,
Alas! the missles struck them,
And caused them both to fall.
poem by Julia A Moore
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The Warrior's Prayer
Long since, in sore distress, I heard one pray,
'Lord, who prevailest with resistless might,
Ever from war and strife keep me away,
My battles fight!'
I know not if I play the Pharisee,
And if my brother after all be right;
But mine shall be the warrior's plea to thee--
Strength for the fight.
I do not ask that thou shalt front the fray,
And drive the warring foeman from my sight;
I only ask, O Lord, by night, by day,
Strength for the fight!
When foes upon me press, let me not quail
Nor think to turn me into coward flight.
I only ask, to make mine arms prevail,
Strength for the fight!
Still let mine eyes look ever on the foe,
Still let mine armor case me strong and bright;
And grant me, as I deal each righteous blow,
Strength for the fight!
And when, at eventide, the fray is done,
My soul to Death's bedchamber do thou light,
And give me, be the field or lost or won,
Rest from the fight!
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Farewell My Rebel Latvian (For Erica)
Farewell my noble rebel so cold and deep the grave
But you were not afraid of death and you were always brave
You were my favourite brother the one I loved the best
The rebel heart from Latvia has gone to peaceful rest.
I remember back in Germany when you and your friend ran away
You planned to go to Latvia to join the rebel fray
But of course ye did not make it as ye were far too young
you were the lad of action who spoke with rebel tongue.
Farewell my brother Johnny you never lived to see
the greatest dream you ever had that Latvia might be free,
Free of the tyrant Soviets and their brutality
We had so much in common we loved our own Country.
Farewell my rebel Latvian with dignity you died
You bore your suffering bravely and and faced the end with pride
God thought you'd suffered too much and on your life quenched the light
And now you're in a freer World where you won't have to fight
Farewell my rebel brother my heart is flood with tears
You were my king and hero in hard and bitter years
But god he loved you better he took you from your pain
And we will meet in heaven I know we'll meet again.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Explode
Vera's face burnt as a memory of bedroom fun
With a lighter and some hairspray
Smoking in the girls' room
Not worse than Shelley's rape behind the McDonald's
By a man she thought was fine, didn't tell anybody
Or maybe back then we just thought that she was getting some
Now we look back and see that she didn't know how
We never thought that we'd get caught up
Stuck in the teenage waste
As we explode
As we explode
As we explode
As we explode
Then getting drunk in the bushes by the road outside the Kmart
Rolling around in them to see if you would get prickled
Slip the acid on your tongue rooftop mall parkade
We couldn't get enough
Then count the stars and the ten million woes
Just you and the universe judging each other
We never knew that we'd get caught up
Stuck in the teenage waste
As we explode
As we explode
As we explode
As we let go
It's a fight, it's a fight and you finally belong
Got a shiner now and it's more than a battle scar
More than a battle scar, such a good, good story to tell
At lunch break, lunch break, lunch break, lunch break
Such a good, good story to tell
You bully, you break, you bully, you break
You fake, you fake, you fake, you fake
You smoke, you toke, you want, you flaunt, you hit it and you're in it and it's spinning
And it's wild
We never thought that we'd get caught up
Stuck in the teenage waste
As we explode
As we explode
As we explode
As we let go
We're counting the stars
We're counting the stars
We're gonna go far, we're gonna go far
We're counting the stars, we're counting the stars
We're not very far, we're not very far
And it's you and me in the open air
It's truth or dare, we don't care
We're counting the stars, we're counting the stars, we're counting the stars, we're counting the stars
song performed by by Nelly Furtado
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Run and Hide
To run: To run and hide
Afraid to face the giants that arise
Strong man, strong man
Now too weak to stand
All courage tis faded
With an unseeming fate he's faced
That of a great seasoned warrior
Who now is no longer conqueror
To hide: to run and hide
Unwilling to face the divide
On the bullet teeth break
As devastion fear leaves in its wake
Unable now to face tomorrow
Refusing to take that which is hard to swallow
Impending doom now closing in
On he who shuts himself in
To run and hide, to run and hide
Will only a little time bide
Till your fears you will face
As you are caught by your greatest test
Strong man strong man
Now too weak to stand
To run and hide
Will with defeat concide
Strong man strong man
Now too weak to stand
poem by Joses Tirtabudi
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Milton
I
Lover of beauty, walking on the height
Of pure philosophy and tranquil song;
Born to behold the visions that belong
To those who dwell in melody and light;
Milton, thou spirit delicate and bright!
What drew thee down to join the Roundhead throng
Of iron-sided warriors, rude and strong,
Fighting for freedom in a world half night?
Lover of Liberty at heart wast thou,
Above all beauty bright, all music clear:
To thee she bared her bosom and her brow,
Breathing her virgin promise in thine ear,
And bound thee to her with a double vow, --
Exquisite Puritan, grave Cavalier!
II
The cause, the cause for which thy soul resigned
Her singing robes to battle on the plain,
Was won, O poet, and was lost again;
And lost the labour of thy lonely mind
On weary tasks of prose. What wilt thou find
To comfort thee for all the toil and pain?
What solace, now thy sacrifice is vain
And thou art left forsaken, poor, and blind?
Like organ-music comes the deep reply:
"The cause of truth looks lost, but shall be won.
For God hath given to mine inward eye
Vision of England soaring to the sun.
And granted me great peace before I die,
In thoughts of lowly duty bravely done."
III
O bend again above thine organ-board,
Thou blind old poet longing for repose!
Thy Master claims thy service not with those
Who only stand and wait for his reward.
He pours the heavenly gift of song restored
Into thy breast, and bids thee nobly close
A noble life, with poetry that flows
In mighty music of the major chord.
Where hast thou learned this deep, majestic strain,
Surpassing all thy youthful lyric grace,
To sing of Paradise? Ah, not in vain
The griefs that won at Dante's side thy place,
And made thee, Milton, by thy years of pain,
The loftiest poet of the Saxon race!
poem by Henry Van Dyke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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