Verses Left by Mr. Pope
With no poetic ardour fir'd
I press the bed where Wilmot lay;
That here he lov'd, or here expir'd,
Begets no numbers grave or gay.
Beneath thy roof, Argyle, are bred
Such thoughts as prompt the brave to lie
Stretch'd out in honour's nobler bed,
Beneath a nobler roof - the sky.
Such flames as high in patriots burn,
Yet stoop to bless a child or wife;
And such as wicked kings may mourn,
When freedom is more dear than life.
poem by Alexander Pope
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Red-Tiled Roof
Poets may praise a wattle thatch
Doubtfully waterproof;
Let me uplift my lowly latch
Beneath a rose-tiled roof.
Let it be gay and rich in hue,
Soft bleached by burning days,
Where skies ineffably are blue,
And seas a golden glaze.
But set me in the surly North
Beneath a roof of slate,
And as I sourly sally forth
My heart will hum with hate;
And I will brood beneath a pine
Where Nature seldom smiles,
Heart-longing for a starry vine
And roof of ruddy tiles.
For oh the South's a bonny clime
And sunshine is its life;
So there I'll finish up my time
A stranger unto strife.
And smoke my pipe and sit aloof
From care by miles and miles,
Sagaciously beneath a roof,
Geranium-gay and panic proof,
Of ruby tinted tiles.
poem by Robert William Service
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Being There
'Oheneba'!
My world of words with the hero inside me;
And like a child from a virtuos woman,
Being there for me is everything.
Dreams come and true and love can take you on a ride!
For, 'Odo Oduro' is what i am talking about.
'Daben na odo beba'?
Being there for me is everything and,
You are the roof beneath the roof of my love.
Try to revisit my house like a tree beneath a tree,
And try to revisit my mind like a home beneath another house;
For being there forme is everything!
And i will take my story to the whole world.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Illogical Dream
it rains ash on the roof
all the residents hide in fear
and then it stops
a child climbs the roof
opens his mouth and lets his tongue
taste the ash
there is something inside it
the child calls his mother
saying it tastes like shrimps
and so all the people climb the house
stays on the roof and
had their feasts
that whole day when the sun
never shines.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Gratiana Dancing
SHE beat the happy pavement--
By such a star made firmament,
Which now no more the roof envies!
But swells up high, with Atlas even,
Bearing the brighter nobler heaven,
And, in her, all the deities.
Each step trod out a Lover's thought,
And the ambitious hopes he brought
Chain'd to her brave feet with such arts,
Such sweet command and gentle awe,
As, when she ceased, we sighing saw
The floor lay paved with broken hearts.
poem by Richard Lovelace
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The Ballad Of Jesse James
Jesse james was a man
And he killed many men
He robbed the glendale train
And he took from the richer
And he gave that to the poorer
Hed a hand and a heart and a brain
Oh jesse had a wife to mourn for his life
Three children they were so brave
But that dirty little coward
That shot mr. howard
Has laid jesse james in his grave
(instrumental)
On wednesday night
When the moon was shining bright
They robbed that glendale train
And the folks from miles about (yeah they can)
They all said without a doubt
It was done by her frankie and jesse james (yes it was)
Oh jessie had a wife, to mourn for his life
Three children they were so brave
But that dirty little coward
That shot mr. howard
Has laid (poor) jesse james in his grave
(instrumental)
Well the people held their breath
When they heard about jesses death (yeah)
And they wondered how poor jesse came to die (how did he die? )
It was one of his guys, called little robert ford
And he shot jessie james on the sly
Oh jessie had a wife to mourn for his life
Three children they were so brave
But that dirty little coward
That shot mr. howard
Has laid jesse james in his grave
Has laid poor jesse in his grave
He laid jesse james in his grave
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Plea To The All Occupy Protesters Of The World
Changes shall be made with heart's songs of love and care don't let violence be attached to Occupy Protesters. If violence win, the peace is lost. All hearts '99' are with you, please keep it up!
There is a roof over their heads
Because her dear man works
They're having roof sold by the bank
The husband works as ever, very hard.
She cannot help but sit and wait
She's also lost her job
What can she do, to what gods a prayer shall say
For their house not to become ashtray.
How can she ask to her own child?
'-Study hard please, study hard
You'll have a happy better life! '
child says-'please: can see the dear dad, don't lie! '
poem by Elena Sandu
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The New Tyranny
The New Tyranny
This dawn after rain had trumpeting its force on the old roof tiles
It ceased a soft a soft drizzle, Yes I know I should get up at eight
steeped as I’m in a protestant work ethic, but overcome by
laziness slept for another hour. In my drowsiness I thought how
our freedom has been restricted by the internet.
Our thoughts and secrets are no longer our property but shared
by authorities that want to know our innermost thoughts, we are
prisoners of an all embracing society that will not tolerate thoughts
other than the banal comments about friends’ birthdays.
What was heralded to be a great instrument of communication is
spied upon by our leaders who know more about us now then
the Stasi did in East Germany. Free speech only exist for those who
have nothing to say and accept living in the land of conventions.
Nothing can be nobler if we demand our right not to be censured
and called seditious because we will not be trapped into trivial
acceptance of perceived lies.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Anxieties Of A Widow
May stretched its legs into the grave.
Thunder heralds the rains.
Hut on the bank of Kanoli canal
Is not re-thatched this year.
Her infant’s illness made the doctor gay
With all the wages she had kept.
Summer takes the last breath,
But the coconut leaf thatched roof
Is not re-thatched this year.
As the widow stands on the threshold,
The rain clouds gather over her sky
And the wind scatters terror in her corridor.
Will the tattered roof be flown away?
Will the rain drops make pores
On the roof of her life?
Where will her child crawl and smile?
Question waves are thus getting high;
Her canoe is ready to be tossed.
(Summer ends in the month of May and rainy season begins in the month of June in Kerala)
poem by Fabiyas M V
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My Cottage Home
1.
My home, my home, my cottage home,
Thou fair and lovely spot,
How sad and lonely is my soul,
When I can view thee not;
The vines may blossom in my path,
And flowers I most adore,
But what are all their charm to me,
If not beside my door.
2.
Home is a name ne'er forget,
Like other names of earth;
We never grow old to love
The spot that gave us birth;
And when in dreams of faded years;
Of all our youthful pride,
How sweet to dwell beneath the roof,
Where our dear parents died.
3.
My home, my home, my cottage home,
I'll love thee evermore,
And evry heart that greets me when
I reach thy humble door;
And though my mother's smile be gone;
My mother's watchful care,
I love to dwell beneath the roof,
For home was always there.
poem by Septimus Winner
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On Visiting the Graves of Hawthorne and Thoreau
Beneath these shades, beside yon winding stream,
Lies Hawthorne's manly form, the mortal part!
The soul, that loved to meditate and dream,
Might linger here unwilling to depart,
But that a higher life has called away
To fairer scenes, to nobler work and thought.
Why should the spirit then on earth delay,
That has a glimpse of such bright regions caught!
And near another, Nature's child, doth rest,—
Thoreau, who loved each woodland path to tread;
So gently sleeping on his mother's breast!
Living, though numbered with the numerous dead.
We mourn! But hope will whisper in the heart,
We meet again and meet no more to part.
poem by Jones Very
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Up On The Roof
(gerry goffin / carole king)
When this old world starts getting me down
And people are much too much for me face
I climb way up to the top of the stairs
And all my cares just fade right into space
On the roof
Its peaceful as can be
And there the world below
Cant bother me
Keep a-telling you
Right slap, dab in the middle of town
Ive found a paradise thats trouble-free
Yes, I have now
When this world starts getting you down
Theres room enough for two
Up on the roof
Up on the roof
Everything is all right
Up on the roof
Oh, come on baby
Up on the roof
Oh, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Up on the roof
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Freedom of Press
‘Freedom of Press’, ‘Freedom of Press’, the old lady cries
‘Shut the hell up’, the old man denies
‘Are you gay and how much do you pay? , the old lady asks
‘Shut the hell up’, the old man blasts
‘Tell me about the wife, is she still in your life? ’
‘Cleaning her teeth, busy is the wife’
‘Tell me about the dog, is it the one? ’
‘My life’s my own, not for everyone’
‘So it is the dog, isn’t it the dog? ’
‘I wouldn’t do a dog, would never do a dog’
‘You don’t say much, tell me something new’
‘Hmmm…is the evening convenient for you’
‘Evening is perfect, your place or mine’
‘Your place is better, I got something on my mind’
‘Would you like to see the freedom of press’
‘I am dying to see this freedom that you stress’
The old man sleeps, the old lady writes
The dog is in the yard, the wife never bites
Nation awakes to a dawn of celebrity
Those in the toga shout ‘death of morality’
Audio, video and debates and interviews
Oh Lord, who took away my news?
Morality-shmorality nobody buys
‘Freedom of press’ the old lady cries
poem by Purushottam DDD
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Love Vigilantes
Oh Ive just come
From the land of the sun
From a war that must be won
In the name of truth
With our soldiers so brave
Your freedom we will save
With our rifles and grenades
And some help from god
I want to see my family
My wife and child waiting for me
Ive got to go home
Ive been so alone, you see
You just cant believe
The joy I did recieve
When I finally got my leave
And I was going home
Oh I flew through the sky
My convictions could not lie
For my country I would die
And I will see it soon
I want to see my family
My wife and child waiting for me
Ive got to go home
Ive been so alone, you see
When I walked through the door
My wife she lay upon the floor
And with tears her eyes were sore
I did not know why
Then I looked into her hand
And I saw the telegram
That said that I was a brave, brave man
But that I was dead
I want to see my family
My wife and child waiting for me
Ive got to go home
Ive been so alone, you see
song performed by by New Order
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Trigger Point
A missile in the home,
what they have done?
You are on flames.
A red smoke rises
from bottomless hole.
Memory slumps.
A glow in pain washed
cells, calls the mirror.
Instead, grave diggers arrive.
This was the manufactured truth
of the eternal kiss
of death. I stretch my arms
to feel the terror.
The walls start crying.
There was no roof.
poem by Satish Verma
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Underground System
Set the foot down with distrust upon the crust of the
world—it is thin.
Moles are at work beneath us; they have tunneled the
sub-soil
With separate chambers; which at an appointed knock
Could be as one, could intersect and interlock. We walk
on the skin
Of life. No toil
Of rake or hoe, no lime, no phosphate, no rotation of
crops, no irrigation of the land,
Will coax the limp and flattened grain to stand
On that bad day, or feed to strength the nibbled root's of
our nation.
Ease has demoralized us, nearly so, we know
Nothing of the rigours of winter: The house has a roof
against—the car a top against—the snow.
All will be well, we say, it is a bit, like the rising of the
sun,
For our country to prosper; who can prevail against us?
No one.
The house has a roof; but the boards of its floor are
rotting, and hall upon hall
The moles have built their palace beneath us, we have
not far to fall.
poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay
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Ser-en-dip-i-ty
he
begets poetry
begets interest
begets poets
begets poetry
begets respect
begets inspiration
begets poetry
begets hope
begets them/they/she
begets poetry
begets love
begets this
2005
poem by Jeffrey SpahrSummers
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A Grieving Mother
The patriots celebrating the war has been won
But the grieving mother weeps for her dead son
Who died a young hero in a war far away
His twenty third birthday it would be today.
Out of the young war dead war heroes are made
This morning she did not go to watch the parade
Instead she placed flowers on the grave where her son lay
And knelt on the grass for awhile for to pray.
She sees her son's death as a waste of a good young life
He never had the chance to make the young woman he loved his wife
He surely would have made a wonderful dad
One of the joys in life that he never had.
Today had he been alive he'd have been twenty three
Her son was a brave man none braver than he
She wept at his grave whilst through the streets of the town
The patriots did proudly parade up and down.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Jesse James
When Jesse James was a lad
He killed many a man
And he roamed over the Scarsdale range
Robbin' from the rich
And givin' to the poor
He was dark and cold and full of rage
Oh yes he was, sing with me
Poor Jesse had a wife
To mourn for his life
And three children
They were oh so brave
But that dirty little coward
He went and shot Mr. Howard
Laid poor Jesse in his grave yeah
It was on a Saturday night
When Jesse was at home
Talking to old railroad Jed
Along come Robert Ford
Like a theif in the night
And he shot poor Jesse in the back
Poor Jesse had a wife
To mourn for his life
Three children
They were oh so brave
But that dirty little coward
He went and shot Mr. Howard
Laid poor Jesse in his grave yeah
He lays
Six feet under the ground
song performed by by Bob Seger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Am A Wicked Child
Mother mary come to me
Cause I am a wicked child
I have sinned and I am so confused and I am a wicked child
I am a wicked child
I am the devils son and I wish I could be good for you
I walk a crooked mile
but I wish I could be good
I wish I could be good
If I could have kept the straight and narrow
If I could have kept the straight and narrow
And not have broke your heart
Not have broke your heart
Now I wake up in the night
Lying on my bed
It's tugging at my arms and legs
Like I was a marionette
Send baby Jesus
Surely it is time
Send baby jesus
Let him radiate his light
Radiate his light
lyrics from 24-03-2000 webcast:
I am the devils son and I wish I could be good for you
broke your heartwicked child
and I am a wicked child
I am a wicked child
and I am a wicked child
I am a wicked child
and I am a wicked child
I am a wicked child
and I am a wicked child
I am a wicked child
because I am a wicked child
and I deserve to go to hell
and I am a wicked child
I am a wicked child
and I am a wicked child & I am a wicked child
and I am a wicked child
I am a..
song performed by by Radiohead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter XLII: What Lies Beneath
beauty lies beneath
sense lies beneath
secret lies beneath
character lies beneath
rule lies beneath
mind lies beneath
past lies beneath
foundation lies beneath
root lies beneath
dark hole lies beneath
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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