Sonnet XIII
I fancied, while you stood conversing there,
Superb, in every attitude a queen,
Her ermine thus Boadicea bare,
So moved amid the multitude Faustine.
My life, whose whole religion Beauty is,
Be charged with sin if ever before yours
A lesser feeling crossed my mind than his
Who owning grandeur marvels and adores.
Nay, rather in my dream-world's ivory tower
I made your image the high pearly sill,
And mounting there in many a wistful hour,
Burdened with love, I trembled and was still,
Seeing discovered from that azure height
Remote, untrod horizons of delight.
poem by Alan Seeger
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The Hosts
Purged, with the life they left, of all
That makes life paltry and mean and small,
In their new dedication charged
With something heightened, enriched, enlarged,
That lends a light to their lusty brows
And a song to the rhythm of their tramping feet,
These are the men that have taken vows,
These are the hardy, the flower, the elite, --
These are the men that are moved no more
By the will to traffic and grasp and store
And ring with pleasure and wealth and love
The circles that self is the center of;
But they are moved by the powers that force
The sea forever to ebb and rise,
That hold Arcturus in his course,
And marshal at noon in tropic skies
The clouds that tower on some snow-capped chain
And drift out over the peopled plain.
They are big with the beauty of cosmic things.
Mark how their columns surge! They seem
To follow the goddess with outspread wings
That points toward Glory, the soldier's dream.
With bayonets bare and flags unfurled,
They scale the summits of the world
And fade on the farthest golden height
In fair horizons full of light.
Comrades in arms there -- friend or foe --
That trod the perilous, toilsome trail
Through a world of ruin and blood and woe
In the years of the great decision -- hail!
Friend or foe, it shall matter nought;
This only matters, in fine: we fought.
For we were young and in love or strife
Sought exultation and craved excess:
To sound the wildest debauch in life
We staked our youth and its loveliness.
Let idlers argue the right and wrong
And weigh what merit our causes had.
Putting our faith in being strong --
Above the level of good and bad --
For us, we battled and burned and killed
Because evolving Nature willed,
And it was our pride and boast to be
The instruments of Destiny.
There was a stately drama writ
By the hand that peopled the earth and air
And set the stars in the infinite
And made night gorgeous and morning fair,
And all that had sense to reason knew
That bloody drama must be gone through.
Some sat and watched how the action veered --
Waited, profited, trembled, cheered --
We saw not clearly nor understood,
But yielding ourselves to the masterhand,
Each in his part as best he could,
We played it through as the author planned .
poem by Alan Seeger
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Once Upon A Poem
In the Mad-Poetic world,
Of a lonely Ivory Tower,
Was a Poet never heard,
For it never was his hour.
He had gone and warned the World,
Of impending, danger, power,
But the people kept on dancing,
Just like fools, around his tower.
Poets, Idealists and Lovers,
This old World has never changed,
Poets, stay in Ivory Tower
And pretend you are deranged.
poem by Sandra Feldman
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The Need to Love
The need to love that all the stars obey
Entered my heart and banished all beside.
Bare were the gardens where I used to stray;
Faded the flowers that one time satisfied.
Before the beauty of the west on fire,
The moonlit hills from cloister-casements viewed
Cloud-like arose the image of desire,
And cast out peace and maddened solitude.
I sought the City and the hopes it held:
With smoke and brooding vapors intercurled,
As the thick roofs and walls close-paralleled
Shut out the fair horizons of the world---
A truant from the fields and rustic joy,
In my changed thought that image even so
Shut out the gods I worshipped as a boy
And all the pure delights I used to know.
Often the veil has trembled at some tide
Of lovely reminiscence and revealed
How much of beauty Nature holds beside
Sweet lips that sacrifice and arms that yield:
Clouds, window-framed, beyond the huddled eaves
When summer cumulates their golden chains,
Or from the parks the smell of burning leaves,
Fragrant of childhood in the country lanes,
An organ-grinder's melancholy tune
In rainy streets, or from an attic sill
The blue skies of a windy afternoon
Where our kites climbed once from some grassy hill:
And my soul once more would be wrapped entire
In the pure peace and blessing of those years.
Before the fierce infection of Desire
Had ravaged all the flesh. Through starting tears
Shone that lost Paradise; but, if it did,
Again ere long the prison-shades would fall
That Youth condemns itself to walk amid,
So narrow, but so beautiful withal.
And I have followed Fame with less devotion,
And kept no real ambition but to see
Rise from the foam of Nature's sunlit ocean
My dream of palpable divinity;
And aught the world contends for to mine eye
Seemed not so real a meaning of success
As only once to clasp before I die
My vision of embodied happiness.
poem by Alan Seeger
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Song
TO a woman's wistful heart
In a startled wave of feeling,
Swift and sudden,
Sweeps love's flood in,
Joy with fear in rapture reeling;
Scathe and sorrow, fret and smart,
In one flush of gladness healing;
Life beclouded,
Sorrow shrouded,
As a sunlit world revealing
To a woman's wistful heart!
To a woman's wistful heart,
Warm with hopes that almost frighten.
Love comes singing,
Gladly bringing
To her loneliness a light in.
Pain and shadowed grief depart,
Every hour life's glories heighten;
Earth's wide wonder
That has shunned her
Like a flower blooms to brighten
In a woman's wistful heart!
poem by Arthur Henry Adams
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Send Your Love
Finding the world in the smallness of a grain of sand
And holding infinities in the palm of your hand
And Heaven's realms in the seedlings of this tiny flower
And eternities in the space of a single hour
Send your love into the future
Send your love into the distant dawn
Inside your mind is a relay station
A mission probe into the unknowing
We send a seed to a distant future
Then we can watch the galaxies growing
This ain't no time for doubting your power
This ain't no time for hiding your care
You're climbing down from an ivory tower
You've got a stake in the world we ought to share
You see the stars are moving so slowly
But still the earth is moving so fast
Can't you see the moon is so lonely
She's still trapped in the pain of the past
This is the time of the worlds colliding
This is the time of kingdoms falling
This is the time of the worlds dividing
Time to heed your call
Send your love into the future
Send your precious love into some distant time
And fix that wounded planet with the love of your healing
Send your love
Send your love
There's no religion but sex and music
There's no religion but sound and dancing
There's no religion but line and color
There's no religion but sacred trance
There's no religion but the endless ocean
There's no religion but the moon and stars
There's no religion but time and motion
There's no religion, just tribal scars
Throw a pebble in and watch the ocean
See the ripples vanish in the distance
It's just the same with all the emotions
It's just the same in every instance
There's no religion but the joys of rhythm
Therec12
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Are Always On My Mind
I love you so much that,
I cannot sleep at night;
You are the delight of my dreams and,
I want you to know that.
You are always on my mind,
In this world so sweet is you as my lover;
And, i will always remember you.
Everything has to go on smoothly to cement our love,
Down by the river side with the love that muses;
I can alwayssee your image on the surface of the water,
You are mine my sweetheart.
You are always on my mind and,
Don't let the colours and the differences separate us;
Don't let distances separate us too,
For you are all that i need my sweetheart.
Your love matters to me a lot,
You are the dream of my dreams;
Your shape and movement do motivate my intuitions.
You are always on my mind,
You are all that i need;
In times like this, i will always dream of you.
I love you so much that,
I don't know what to do;
I want you to know about this my sweetheart,
You are always on my mind.
Let the emotions of your love move towards me,
Come and be the one for me always;
My world is your world and,
Your world is my world too;
You are the very one to upgrade my status.
You are always on my mind and,
I have nowhere going than to love you;
Like a bread and butter pudding,
Let your love zone be mine.
My beautiful woman,
Love makes the world go round;
And your sweet love is always on my mind.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Delight
Key:- r -ray
A-anita
R: stand right up and be your witness
2 unlimited oyeah were the fittest
Moving, dont dare to be a chicken
cause the bass is so finger licking
Let it move youll, till it suits youll
This beat was put here to groove youll
The a, n, i, t and a
Back to back with the homeboy ray
R: I going to the galaxy like a bomb
Dont wanna come, heh and your dawn
On the scene, a beauty queen
And all the those things you ever dream off
Welcome to it, keep on swiving
cause you know its about surviving
Keep yours ears open with the deathtone
cause we come from the lights just come along
A: delight
Delight
Delight
A: delight gives me good vibrations
Fills me up with nice sensations
On and on till I cant take no more
Delight is what I came here for
Please let me tell you this
This is a chance you cannot miss
2 unlimited on the scene
Yes I am a beauty queen
A: delight
Delight
Delight
song performed by by 2 Unlimited
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Early Summer.
The light is silent on the greeny sward,
And from a bough above the wild dove's coo
Steals on the ear like a dream-dewy word,
Or the voice of one of a faery crew.
The warmth within the azure of the hills
Breathes like the picture of a perfect thing,
Which some supernal artist limning has
Made mystical with love's remembering.
Now the faint murmur of the coming tide
Grows like a spirit in the quiet cove,
While with a drowsy murmur kin to it
The brown bees among the sweet flowers rove.
Here where the heart could fold itself, and sleep
As if within a shining century,
Naught seems to change but thought, and even it
Makes every change a tender melody.
All here is so remote from the world's care,
As if it were a dream that would not fade,
Amid so much that man has ruined here
Like some old-world divineness that has stayed.
poem by Robert Crawford
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No Tittle
I put myself in a lovely ivory tower
whoever does not will be able to grab
I was just too perfect to crap and seduction are venomous
my beauty glow filtered through niche snobbery
between the eternal silence
I put myself in a lovely ivory tower
yet untouched by anyone
the inevitability of death to me by my
all my naive
Copyright © 2012
When Time Stood Still
Far beyond the things you see
Time rolls on eternally
Got a thing about it
Just cant live without it
Sitting there inside your mind
Just waiting for the clock to chime
On a lonely line
Stood a lonely man
No pictures on an empty wall
No body there no one at all
Just echoes in the ivory halls
When time stood still
Days line up outside the door
Thought time had stopped there was no more
Been a lonely world
Such a lonely world
No pictures on an empty wall
No toulouse, vincent, or pablo
Just echoes in the ivory halls
When time stood still
No big machine or april showers
No submarines no plastic flowers
Just echoes in the ivory towers
When time stood still
When time stood still
When time stood still
When time stood still
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ivory
You were born with a face that would let you get your way
Yeah you had everything you wanted child, that is until the day
you know you're much too fine and free, Ivory
You've been dressed in a vest, every minute of your day
You walk into a room, stand in a lit shade
Is your timer too high for me, Ivory
Ivory
How does it feel to be so high
Ivory
How long how long will it take for you to cry
Ivory
I'm in need
Ivory
Ivory
I'll touch your soul, might even touch your brain
I know you can't see me
I know your blind
Come back come back and see
Ivory
So good to me
Ivory
song performed by by Bob Seger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Brooke
I dream of beauty, an image of such wonderful beauty.
No garden of roses could match the beauty I see.
No sculpture, no painting could capture such beauty.
Only the angels in heaven above could have greater.
But the beauty I dream of is not a dream. You are the beauty I see.
An earthy angel do I see, made from heaven above,
Wishing she was just for me.
poem by Anon Y. Mous
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Ben Boyd's Tower
Ben Boyd's Tower is watching—
Watching o’er the sea;
Ben Boyd’s Tower is waiting
For her and me.
We do not know the day,
We do not know the hour,
But we know that we shall meet
By Ben Boyd’s Tower.
Moonlight peoples Boyd Tower,
Mystic are its walls;
Lightly dance the lovers
In its haunted halls.
Ben Boyd’s Tower is watching—
Watching o’er the foam;
Ben Boyd’s Tower is waiting
Till the “Wanderer” comes home.
O! he lay above us—
High above the surf—
Finger-nails and toe-caps
Digging in the turf.
We do not know the day,
We do not know the hour,
But Two and Two shall meet again
By Ben Boyd’s Tower.
There’s an ancient dame in Eden—
Basket on her arm—
And she goes down the Main Street
From the old, old farm.
Hood drawn on her forehead—
Withered dame and grey—
She never looks on Boyd Tower
Out across the Bay.
Bright eyes in the ballroom,
Coquetting with two,
Just for love of mischief,
As a girl will do.
A quarrel in the bar-room—
All within the hour—
And four men rode from Boyd Town
To Ben Boyd’s Tower.
poem by Henry Lawson
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The Tower Of Famine
Amid the desolation of a city,
Which was the cradle, and is now the grave
Of an extinguished people,—so that Pity
Weeps o’er the shipwrecks of Oblivion’s wave,
There stands the Tower of Famine. It is built
Upon some prison-homes, whose dwellers rave
For bread, and gold, and blood: Pain, linked to Guilt,
Agitates the light flame of their hours,
Until its vital oil is spent or spilt.
There stands the pile, a tower amid the towers
And sacred domes; each marble-ribbed roof,
The brazen-gated temples, and the bowers
Of solitary wealth,--the tempest-proof
Pavilions of the dark Italian air,--
Are by its presence dimmed--they stand aloof,
And are withdrawn—so that the world is bare;
As if a spectre wrapped in shapeless terror
Amid a company of ladies fair
Should glide and glow, till it became a mirror
Of all their beauty, and their hair and hue,
The life of their sweet eyes, with all its error,
Should be absorbed, till they to marble grew.
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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A secrete admire
Hi there sweetheart
sorry im the messenger!
The angel of life sent me to give you my kind of bad information
you might love it or hate it but dann i dont care
so here me lonelyness ive given up you
i dont need you any more i found what i was looking eor so hear me emptyness i have no room for you
ive finally found what ive been dreaming of someone to love.
She is very pretty not to mention her beauty never mind her attitude she is unique and intelligent she has sweetlips hips and not to mention her portable organs
dont be jealouse to congradulate me.
Face your reflection and pay atention to that action to the image she is the most beautiful natural image ever found in this world
poem by Ernest Makuakua
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An Image
An image made by man's design and skills,
What home will you build for me?
An image made by man's imaginations,
An image is what you are;
I was trained with an 'iron-hand' so,
Your 'soft-hands' will not bend me.
Once bitten by a snake,
Twice being afraid of an earthworm;
What kind of love will you share with me?
All lawful things are clean,
A meesage from Candace the Queen of Ethiopia;
Peace is the right choice than war,
Love is the right choice than hate,
All lawful things are truly clean.
When the saints sit among you,
You will know them by their works;
LIke 'MS Columbus',
LIke 'Queen Mary 1',
Like 'MS Aidaaura',
Like 'MS Deutschland',
LIke 'Queen Mary 2',
Like 'Sedov',
Like 'MS Astor',
But light travels faster than sound;
And, all lawful things are clean.
Peace is better than war,
Love is better than hate,
And you don't need whitewashed walls.
When the saints sit among you,
You will know them by their fruits;
Like the land of the singers,
Like the land of the artists,
Like the land of the writers,
Like the land of the mathematicians,
Like the land of the cities at fifty;
All lawful things are really clean.
An image is what you are and,
This world is full of them;
Like the image made from a man's hand,
Of which we are all part of it.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Balade
(from the French of Wenceslas, Duke of Brabant and Luxembourg, who died in 1384.)
I cannot tell, of twain beneath this bond,
Which one in grief the other goes beyond,---
Narcissus, who to end the pain he bore
Died of the love that could not help him more;
Or I, that pine because I cannot see
The lady who is queen and love to me.
Nay--for Narcissus, in the forest pond
Seeing his image, made entreaty fond,
'Beloved, comfort on my longing pour':
So for a while he soothed his passion sore;
So cannot I, for all too far is she---
The lady who is queen and love to me.
But since that I have Love's true colours donned,
I in his service will not now despond,
For in extremes Love yet can all restore:
So till her beauty walks the world no more
All day remembered in my hope shall be
The lady who is queen and love to me.
poem by Sir Henry Newbolt
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Religion is doing; a man does not merely think his religion or feel it, he lives his religion as much as he is able, otherwise it is not religion but fantasy or philosophy. Whether he likes it or not he shows his attitude towards religion by his actions and he can show his attitude only by his actions.
quote by G.I. Gurdjieff
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Faustine
LEAN BACK, and get some minutes’ peace;
Let your head lean
Back to the shoulder with its fleece
Of locks, Faustine.
The shapely silver shoulder stoops,
Weighed over clean
With state of splendid hair that droops
Each side, Faustine.
Let me go over your good gifts
That crown you queen;
A queen whose kingdom ebbs and shifts
Each week, Faustine.
Bright heavy brows well gathered up:
White gloss and sheen;
Carved lips that make my lips a cup
To drink, Faustine,
Wine and rank poison, milk and blood,
Being mixed therein
Since first the devil threw dice with God
For you, Faustine.
Your naked new-born soul, their stake,
Stood blind between;
God said “let him that wins her take
And keep Faustine.”
But this time Satan throve, no doubt:
Long since, I ween,
God’s part in you was battered out;
Long since, Faustine.
The die rang sideways as it fell,
Rang cracked and thin,
Like a man’s laughter heard in hell
Far down, Faustine,
A shadow of laughter like a sigh,
Dead sorrow’s kin;
So rang, thrown down, the devil’s die
That won Faustine.
A suckling of his breed you were,
One hard to wean;
But God, who lost you, left you fair,
We see, Faustine.
You have the face that suits a woman
For her soul’s screen—
The sort of beauty that’s called human
In hell, Faustine.
You could do all things but be good
Or chaste of mien;
And that you would not if you could,
We know, Faustine.
Even he who cast seven devils out
Of Magdalene
Could hardly do as much, I doubt,
For you, Faustine.
Did Satan make you to spite God?
Or did God mean
To scourge with scorpions for a rod
Our sins, Faustine?
I know what queen at first you were,
As though I had seen
Red gold and black imperious hair
Twice crown Faustine.
As if your fed sarcophagus
Spared flesh and skin,
You come back face to face with us,
The same Faustine.
She loved the games men played with death,
Where death must win;
As though the slain man’s blood and breath
Revived Faustine.
Nets caught the pike, pikes tore the net;
Lithe limbs and lean
From drained-out pores dripped thick red sweat
To soothe Faustine.
She drank the steaming drift and dust
Blown off the scene;
Blood could not ease the bitter lust
That galled Faustine.
All round the foul fat furrows reeked,
Where blood sank in;
The circus splashed and seethed and shrieked
All round Faustine.
But these are gone now: years entomb
The dust and din;
Yea, even the bath’s fierce reek and fume
That slew Faustine.
Was life worth living then? and now
Is life worth sin?
Where are the imperial years? and how
Are you Faustine?
Your soul forgot her joys, forgot
Her times of teen;
Yea, this life likewise will you not
Forget, Faustine?
For in the time we know not of
Did fate begin
Weaving the web of days that wove
Your doom, Faustine.
The threads were wet with wine, and all
Were smooth to spin;
They wove you like a Bacchanal,
The first Faustine.
And Bacchus cast your mates and you
Wild grapes to glean;
Your flower-like lips were dashed with dew
From his, Faustine.
Your drenched loose hands were stretched to hold
The vine’s wet green,
Long ere they coined in Roman gold
Your face, Faustine.
Then after change of soaring feather
And winnowing fin,
You woke in weeks of feverish weather,
A new Faustine.
A star upon your birthday burned,
Whose fierce serene
Red pulseless planet never yearned
In heaven, Faustine.
Stray breaths of Sapphic song that blew
Through Mitylene
Shook the fierce quivering blood in you
By night, Faustine.
The shameless nameless love that makes
Hell’s iron gin
Shut on you like a trap that breaks
The soul, Faustine.
And when your veins were void and dead,
What ghosts unclean
Swarmed round the straitened barren bed
That hid Faustine?
What sterile growths of sexless root
Or epicene?
What flower of kisses without fruit
Of love, Faustine?
What adders came to shed their coats?
What coiled obscene
Small serpents with soft stretching throats
Caressed Faustine?
But the time came of famished hours,
Maimed loves and mean,
This ghastly thin-faced time of ours,
To spoil Faustine.
You seem a thing that hinges hold,
A love-machine
With clockwork joints of supple gold—
No more, Faustine.
Not godless, for you serve one God,
The Lampsacene,
Who metes the gardens with his rod;
Your lord, Faustine.
If one should love you with real love
(Such things have been,
Things your fair face knows nothing of,
It seems, Faustine);
That clear hair heavily bound back,
The lights wherein
Shift from dead blue to burnt-up black;
Your throat, Faustine,
Strong, heavy, throwing out the face
And hard bright chin
And shameful scornful lips that grace
Their shame, Faustine,
Curled lips, long since half kissed away,
Still sweet and keen;
You’d give him—poison shall we say?
Or what, Faustine?
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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Waiting... For My Dream Girl
Who is my Dream Girl?
Who is my Dream Girl?
Who is made just for me,
Who is only such girl made by Thee,
Who is no less than an angel,
She is my Dream Girl...She is my Dream Girl.
The moon and the star
Bow down in honour,
Seeing the beauty marvel
She is my Dream Girl...She is my Dream Girl.
The 'Goddess of Beauty'
Who is titled
In the Bible,
She is my Dream Girl...She is my Dream Girl.
Not only for her gorgeous nature,
But also for her beautiful heart like a shinig mirror
Who is worshipped in temple
She is my Dream Girl...She is my Dream Girl.
Who is as purified
As the innocence of a child
From mind nad body, heart and soul,
She is my Dream Girl...She is my Dream Girl.
Who is innocent of anger
Whose sweet voice can never be heard louder,
In front of everyone who is always humble,
She is my Dream Girl...She is my Dream Girl.
Whose eyes so resplendent
Express every feeling hidden,
Who is so much adorable
She is my Dream Girl...She is my Dream Girl.
For whom I am the only one,
Who makes me feel like Heaven,
For whom I am so special,
She is my Dream Girl...She is my Dream Girl.
For whom the courtesy strictly matters,
For her family, from the core of her heart, who cares,
Who can't be more liable
She is my Dream Girl...She is my Dream Girl.
Who can distinguish very well between wrong and right
Who can be the most responsible wife,
The family remains at whose disposal
She is my Dream Girl...She is my Dream Girl.
For whom I am the life,
For whom I survive,
Till my last breath, who is still loveable
She is my Dream Girl...She is my Dream Girl.
Now let Fate, Luck and Time play the game of Love
For they will someday make me meet my Lady Dove,
And for whom I can wait for Time Eternal
She is my Dream Girl...She is my Dream Girl.
poem by Akash Agrawal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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