A Cure At Porlock
For whatever did it—the cider
at the Ship Inn, where the crowd
from the bar that night had overflowed
singing into Southey’s Corner, or
an early warning of appendicitis—
the remedy the chemist in the High Street
purveyed was still a dose of kaopectate
in morphine—the bane and the afflatus
of S.T.C. when Alph, the sacred river,
surfaced briefly in the unlikely
vicinity of Baker Farm, and as quickly
sank again, routed forever by the visitor
whose business, intent and disposition—
whether ill or well is just as immaterial—
long ago sunk Lethewards, a particle
of the unbottled ultimate solution.
I drank my dose, and after an afternoon
prostrate, between heaves, on the
coldly purgatorial tiles of the W.C.,
found it elysium simply to recline,
sipping flat ginger beer as though it were
honeydew, in that billowy bed,
under pink chenille, hearing you read
The Mystery of Edwin Drood! For whether
the opium was worth it for John Jasper,
from finding being with you, even sick
at Porlock, a rosily addictive picnic,
I left less likely ever to recover.
poem by Amy Clampitt
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Related quotes
Searching
I'm searching for something
Something I've already found
But not knowing that I've found it
Not even sure what it is that I've found
I'm not sure it's my soul that can't find it
Or my senses that seem to block my mind
From finding what I'm searching for that
I've already found
Or is it the heart that I can't trust to help me
Find my way to this thing I have found but don't know
I've found it
Is it the barrier we all have to come across?
That we will find but never know that we have found it
Or is it my lonesome imagination
trying to play tricks on me
I guess this is just one more thing
I have to deal with today
I know I'll always be searching
for something I've already found
And it will always be searching
for me but it has already found me
I know this thing I'm searching for
has and will change my life for the better
For I hold it very dear to me but don't know I do
And it holds me dear to it but
dose not know it holds me dear
I will always be within it
It will always be within me
We are part of each other
Pieces of a puzzle
The stars in the map of stars
Two wings of a butterfly
But what could it be that I'm searching for
Dose it think about me
Dose it wonder about who I am
Is it just as confused about me
as I am about it
as we lay on the blanket under the stars silently thinking
you turn on your side put your hand around me
then say so sweetly
so passionately
I'm so glad I found you baby
I've been looking for you for a life time
I love you and always will
for you are the only thing I’ve been
searching for
poem by Mrs. Cynosure
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Don't Give A Dose To The One You Love Most
Don’t give a dose to the one you love most.
Give her some marmalade...give her some toast.
You can give her the willies or give her the blues.
But the dose that you give her will get back to youse.
I once had a lady as sweet as a song.
She was my darlin’, and she was my dear.
But she had a dose, and she passed it along.
Now she’s gone, but the dose is still there.
So, don’t give a dose to the one you love most.
Give her some marmalade...give her some toast.
You can give her a partiridge up in a pear tree,
But the dose that you give her might get back to me.
So if you’ve got an itchin’...if you’ve got a drip,
Don’t sit there wishin’ for it to go ’way.
If there’s a thing on the tip of your thing or your lip,
Run down to the clinic today, and say...
'I won’t give a dose to the one I love most.
I’ll give her some marmalade...give her some toast.'
Give her the willies or give her the blues,
But the dose that you give her will get back to you.
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Over Dose
As i got into the van i smelled weed
sweet weed the one thing i craved
as my best friend looked at me
she took 3 hits and passed it to me
i took a look at it and as i took a hit
i began to smile
the wanting for it was gone
with every hit i could feel my troubles leaving
we passed it around till it was done
then we went to the store and bought a 40
as me and my friend passed it back and forth
the horrible taste sat in my mouth
once again i craved weed
she rolled another and passed it back
i took more hits ever time
i got a little sick but kept going
i drank more too
the next day was the same
we smoked 5 joints
drank a whole bottle of whine
and drank some beer
the next day was the same
except the second night i did it
no matter how much i tried
i couldnt cry
even though the feeling was there
as my friend watched me get sick
from the over dose
i closed my eyes
i remember crying make it stop
and her light voice saying its ok
you will be fine i promise
when i look back on those nights
i wish it would have killed me some times
but that was last weekend so the past
is the past and theres always other days.
poem by Sandy Vanity
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Most medical physicists work in the physics of radiation oncology making sure that the desired dose is given to the cancer and the dose to normal tissues are minimized.
quote by John Cameron
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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World Is A Crule Place
im so sick of racism
im so tired of sexism
why can't we just get along
dose it really matter if your black or white
dose it really matter if you are a boy or girl
dose it really matter which side your on
people shall yell out stupid things
people fight for the wrong reasons
war
over what
drugs
religion
that's why i stay here locked up in my room
ignoring the outside world
because of one thing
the world is a cruel place
©Corey Rebbechi
poem by Corey Rebbechi
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Obvious Heart
The obvious heart has come to collect
Cause it tore apart like a tortured insect
The obvious heart waits here to heal
And balances out a subtle reveal
Cause theres a remedy close
In a familiar dose
This bitter pill to swallow
Is last in the bottle tonight
Youre empty its alright
And full of yourself
No need to explain
To anyone else
Broken in time
Taken whats left
No need to deny
The cause or effect
This heart is not a broken one
But where have all the colors gone
Its still among the lucky ones
This heart is not a broken one
But where have all the colors gone
Youre still among the lucky ones
And burning longer than the sun
Cause theres a remedy close
In a familiar dose
Now you can find out who knows
Soaking the truth that she says
In taken chances
song performed by by Finger Eleven
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dose heaven know
dose heaven know you belong to me?
dose heaven know do the angel see?
why so fast, why this early,
why take you life, why they set my tears dropping free,
the angels couldnt see our love, couldnt see what we could be,
your life was so could, so slippery to hold,
a cold love story, a story to be told,
dose heaven know do the angel see?
that they snatched and stole you away from me?
poem by Reggie fambro mcclain III
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Endless Skies
I've been to the edge of the earth
Haven't we all? Heaven's what it's called
That old sacred place of our birth
No clouds were above me
Nor land was beneath me.
The winds were an unknown crowd
But the tides were my carpet
and the oceans my tiles
The stars glistened above me
as the sun brushed the sea
and the lies of this life regressed beneath the waves
The ocean swells separated my heart, body and soul
And only my heart was left alone
To tell of an untold toll.
The day turned to nigh'
Tis' A cold empty grave
And I sank, sank sank.
Beyond the sea floor
Beyond the core.
Till' i found my place abroad.
No crimson crowns or lovely hills but
A prisoner of war
poem by Nicholas Rahming
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Why Do I
why do I think of him all day long
why cant I get him off my mind
why do I wait all day for a five minute call
why do I count the days since I have seen him
why when I close my eyes I see him
why do I dream of his incredible kiss
why do I still feel his fiery touch
why dose my heart stop every time he takes his shirt off
why do butterfly's invade my stomach every time he smiles at me
why dose his laughter shoot a lightening bolt into my soul
why dose his voice sound like magical music to my ears
how dose he make me feel like I'm the most beautiful women in the world
why do I feel free like wild mistletoe making a bridge over a rushing river to a meadow of roses when I'm with him
why do I take him back even after I said I wouldn’t
how dose he still my heart away
how did he still my heart away
why do I question if I'm worth him
why do I down my self if he doesn’t call
why do I doubt if he likes me or not
how dose he make me feel pretty when I'm with him
why do I feel content when I'm with him
why did I not feel guilty for kissing him
why do I like him
why do I trust him
why do I wont to do things with him so badly that it feels like someone is playing hot potato with fire balls in my stomach
why is it that every time he touches me I feel like where he touches me is on fire
why dose his kiss make me feel like I’m floating on the clouds and sliding on rainbows
why do I dream of him when I sleep
why do I wake up and feel him
why do I want to spend all my time with him
why do I want to give him all I can
why would I sacrifice my life for his happiness
why would I give almost anything to see him to touch his unbelievably sexy body to kiss his fiery more experienced lips and to be one with him
whatever the answers are to the questions I have
I’ll find them one day
everyone one day will find out all the answers
to all the questions
they have in there life
the answers I find will lead to more questions
and more answers
but one day I will have no more questions
so I will not have to ask
why do I...
poem by Mrs. Cynosure
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It Is What It Is Or Is It
Failure requires no preparation
Is this my downfall is this where i went wrong
Was i preparing way to long
Can birds fly upside down
But are we all scared of clowns
What came first night or day
The chicken or the egg they say
You can be in a crowd but still be lonely
If you walked backwards
Would you end up at the start
How come lightning never strikes twice in same place
Dose it know its been there before
Can you miss someone you have never none
Why do we fall down but never up
Is the best thing for a hangover
Drinking heavy the night before
Whats on the dark side of the moon
Can you circle the globe in eighty days
In just a balloon
Do fish sleep while they are still moving
Can you still hear without listening
Can you still see with with out looking
Do bees make honey cause they have a sweat tooth
If you had an ant farm would you farm ants
Why cant a step ladder have ladders of their own
And the king have a lounge instead of a thrown
Do animals like being in a zoo
Would like every one watching everything you do
Time
Where dose time really go once it has past
Time is time
Is there such a thing as bad timing
Why dose it fly when were having fun
And slow down when we want it to fly
Can you answer me
Can you tell me why
Dose time stand still
Time waits for no one
Travel in time machine
Dose time ever take time out
Time rules the world
From the time we raise to the time we sleep
We are paid for our
WE pay to use someone else's time
So time is money really
Time we spend together
A life time
We use time reading the times or time magazine
Can you tell me the time please
How many times would that have been said
Lunch time dinner time
My time your time
Your wasting time your wasting my time
Killing time i don't think so
We are running out of time
Race against time
loosing time
Making up for lost time
A bit of overtime
Time to go
Popularity
How dose one measure
Popularity
Is it the stats that say?
You get hits everyday
Or the comments you read
About your poetry
How do they know?
Your popularity
How dose one fathom
What people think
I sit here and ponder
Can this be real?
I'm classed as a poet
My dream JUST became real
poem by Kaila George
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Lethal Dose Of Love
(r. stewart/a.taylor)
Wild thing!
Shouldve known better
With a girl like you
You satisfied my every need
What a little heartbreaker
You turned out to be
Prettiest face Ive ever seen
Oh dance little sister, you turn me on
You make my blood run hot
Killer legs in that short black dress
Baby you was born to rock
I dont mind you fooling me around
Just dont let me out of your jail
I dont mind you messing me up
I tell all my friends
Its a lethal dose of love
Lethal dose of love, watch out
Lethal dose of love
Lethal dose of love
Lethal dose of love
Should ve know better
With a girl like you
Youre totally misunderstood
I hear them talking
In this one horse town
You scandalize the neighborhood
My family was shocked by your antic views
The color of your lips and hair
Even my brother whos a God fearin man
Poor boy had to sit and stare
I dont mind you fooling me around
Just dont let me out of your jail
I dont mind you messing me up
I tell all my friends
Its a lethal dose of love
Lethal dose of love
Yeah yeah yeah
Lethal dose of love
Lethal dose of love
I hear the clicking
Of your heels on the stairs
You dont talk and I dont ask
What a little difference
Some eyeliner makes
Tomorrow youll be back in class
Although my blueprint for happiness
Depends on you
Ill cook and clean and be your slave
Ill tie you up but I wont tie you down
Baby, I might even shave
I dont mind you fooling around
Just dont let me out of your jail
I dont mind you messing me up
I tell all my friends
Its a lethal dose of love
Lethal dose of love
(repeat and fade)
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dose It Matter
i sit, wait, and wonder
why dose a the seed not grow
i water and water it all day long
i care and love it
but it dose not grow
dose it matter
i really wish it would take the water
wish it would take my care and water
but no it will not
it will not grow
it will lay, wait and wonder
why i am around
why i am here
trusting someone can be hard and hurtful
but when you trust someone and they dont trust you
the pain in worse
A dose of adversity is often as needful as a dose of medicine.
In modern pharmacology it's so clear that even if you have a fixed dose of a drug, the individuals respond very differently to one and the same dose.
quote by Arvid Carlsson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thoughts About The Person From Porlock
Coleridge received the Person from Porlock
And ever after called him a curse,
Then why did he hurry to let him in?
He could have hid in the house.
It was not right of Coleridge in fact it was wrong
(But often we all do wrong)
As the truth is I think he was already stuck
With Kubla Khan.
He was weeping and wailing: I am finished, finished,
I shall never write another word of it,
When along comes the Person from Porlock
And takes the blame for it.
It was not right, it was wrong,
But often we all do wrong.
*
May we inquire the name of the Person from Porlock?
Why, Porson, didn’t you know?
He lived at the bottom of Porlock Hill
So had a long way to go,
He wasn’t much in the social sense
Though his grandmother was a Warlock,
One of the Rutlandshire ones I fancy
And nothing to do with Porlock,
And he lived at the bottom of the hill as I said
And had a cat named Flo,
And had a cat named Flo.
I long for the Person from Porlock
To bring my thoughts to an end,
I am becoming impatient to see him
I think of him as a friend,
Often I look out of the window
Often I run to the gate
I think, He will come this evening,
I think it is rather late.
I am hungry to be interrupted
For ever and ever amen
O Person from Porlock come quickly
And bring my thoughts to an end.
*
I felicitate the people who have a Person from Porlock
To break up everything and throw it away
Because then there will be nothing to keep them
And they need not stay.
*
Why do they grumble so much?
He comes like a benison
They should be glad he has not forgotten them
They might have had to go on.
*
These thoughts are depressing I know. They are depressing,
I wish I was more cheerful, it is more pleasant,
Also it is a duty, we should smile as well as submitting
To the purpose of One Above who is experimenting
With various mixtures of human character which goes best,
All is interesting for him it is exciting, but not for us.
There I go again. Smile, smile, and get some work to do
Then you will be practically unconscious without positively having to go.
poem by Stevie Smith
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A Farm House by the River
I know a little country place
Where still my heart doth linger,
And o'er its fields is every grace
Lined out by memory's finger.
Back from the lane where poplars grew
And aspens quake and quiver,
There stands all bath'd in summer's glow
A farm house by the river.
Its eaves are touched with golden light
So sweetly, softly shining,
And morning glories full and bright
About the doors are twining.
And there endowed with every grace
That nature's hand could giver her,
There lived the angel of the place
In the farm house by the river.
Her eyes were blue, her hair was gold,
Her face was bright and sunny;
The songs that from her bosom rolled
Were sweet as summer's honey.
And I loved her well, that maid divine,
And I prayed the Gracious Giver,
That I some day might call her mine
In the farm house by the river.
Twas not to be - but God knows best.
His will for aye be heeded!
Perhaps amid the angels' bliss,
My little love was needed.
Her spirit from its thralldom torn
Went singing o'er the river,
And that sweet life my heart shall mourn
Forever and forever.
She dies one morn at early light
When all the birds are singing,
And Heaven itself in pure delight
Its bells of joy seemed ringing.
They laid her dust where soon and late
The solemn grasses quiver,
And left alone and desolate
The farm house by the river.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Malpractice
He was the first to graduate,
top of his class at that.
Male nurse he was,
an oxymoron for the crowd,
but he had stuck with all,
had soon excelled and stunned
the staff and the examiners.
He woke each morning, before five,
slipped in the starched and white
then crowned it all by slinging one
his graduation gift, a bell type, too
across his rigid shoulders, pride
as well as practicality and need,
it was the seal of their approval, yes indeed.
On Christmas Eve, he'd volunteered,
they brought a toddler with a temp of 43,
he called the Registrar to get the go
and drew the morphine into glass, precisely so.
The child soon died, it had been calculated wrong,
the dose had been the proper one for one full grown,
perhaps the doc had figured this one way too strong
but here he was, the one in charge and on his own.
He took a 10, it was the largest he could find,
and filled it carefully, then shot it in his vein,
and within seconds he was screaming, going blind
and then he died because the morphine wrecked his brain.
poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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We have used the Bible as if it were a mere special constable's handbook, an opium dose for keeping beasts of burden patient while they are overloaded.
quote by Charles Kingsley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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