Der rote Baron
Tomás Koutník, Tomás Ibl, Albert Franc, Matthias Schweighöfer, Maxim Mehmet
from Der rote Baron (2008)
Submitted by Santana
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3 Days to Kill
Amber Heard, Kevin Costner, Hailee Steinfeld, Connie Nielsen, Scott Burn, Richard Sammel, Tomas Lemarquis, Tómas Lemarquis
from 3 Days to Kill (2014)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Music is not man's invention, but his heritage from the blessed spirits.
quote by Tomas Luis de Victoria
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Music can affect for good or ill the body as well as the mind.
quote by Tomas Luis de Victoria
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Headless Friar of Santo Tomas
In my alma mater, Santo Tomas
We had heard of a mysterious tale
Of a gentle, young Spanish friar who was
A sight that turned anyone very pale.
They said he was a handsome novice
And that time, his superior took fancy.
But the events after that were amiss,
When this friar was lost into mystery.
They say he had been beheaded
By civilians the Spanish called 'Indios'
Though no one believed what was said,
And presumed the circumstances - devious.
Through the years the old building there saw
The appearance of a friar without head,
Frightening students in this age and so
There were masses and prayers for this dead.
It seemed the solution was ineffective-
For soon the appearances became many,
The building had seemed quite conducive
And the ghosts there included the nunnery!
At graduation, we avoided that building
For fear the friar will greet us 'Congrats! '
And had sighed much relief at the leaving
Santo Tomas, and its ghostly 'frats'.
-
Copyright Cynthia Buhain-Baello
February 17,2010
Philippines
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Errors of the Human Body
Michael Eklund, Karoline Herfurth, Tomas Lemarquis, Rik Mayall, Ulrich Meinecke, Ivan Gonzalez, Caroline Gerdolle, Vincent De Ville
from Errors of the Human Body (2012)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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I Like It Like That
Luna Lauren Velez, Jon Seda, Tomas Melly, Desiree Casado, Jesse Borrego, Lisa Vidal, Griffin Dunne, Rita Moreno
by Darnell Martin from I Like It Like That (1994)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Tomas
Unjust trial,
His name is Tomas and my name is Thomas;
They sound the same but spelt out differently,
But plump and round is the muse of this trial.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Midwinter
A blue light
radiates from my clothing.
Midwinter.
Clattering tambourines of ice.
I close my eyes.
There is a silent world
there is a crack
where the dead
are smuggled across the border.
poem by Tomas Transtromer from The Sorrow Gondola
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Tomas did not realize at the time that metaphors are dangerous. Metaphors are not to be trifled with. A single metaphor can give birth to love.
Milan Kundera in The Unbearable Lightness of Being
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Troll Hunter
Otto Jespersen, Hans Morten Hansen, Tomas Alf Larsen, Johanna Morck, Knut Nærum, Robert Stoltenberg, Glenn Erland Tosterud
by Andre Ovredal from The Troll Hunter (2010)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Landscape with Suns
The sun emerges from behind the house
stands in the middle of the street
and breathes on us
with its red wind.
Innsbruck I must leave you.
But tomorrow
there will be a glowing sun
in the gray, half-dead forest
where we must work and live.
poem by Tomas Transtromer from The Sorrow Gondola
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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April and Silence
Spring lies deserted.
The velvet-dark ditch
crawls by my side without reflections.
All that shines
are yellow flowers.
I’m carried in my shadow
like a violin in its black case.
The only thing I want to say
gleams out of reach
like the silver
in a pawnshop.
poem by Tomas Transtromer from The Sorrow Gondola
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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A Horse Is A Horse
A horse is a horse and a man is a man
And neither can be the other
And each can survive but is much better
In the company of one another.
And while a horse is a horse and that is true
A horse is but a beast
As a cow is a cow, some ask how
On its flesh we should not feast?
For they do so in France as in other places
And I don't know how they can
For while a horse is a horse and is only a horse
It is less a cow than it is a man!
poem by Tomás Ó Cárthaigh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Romeo and Juliet
Hailee Steinfeld, Douglas Booth, Ed Westwick, Paul Giamatti, Damian Lewis, Stellan Skarsgard, Natascha McElhone, Kodi Smit-McPhee, Kodi Smit-McPhee, Christian Cooke, Tom Wisdom, Tomas Arana, Lesley Manville, Laura Morante
by Julian Fellowes from Romeo and Juliet (2014)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Madge: Ye Hoyden
At Madge, ye hoyden, gossips scofft,
Ffor that a romping wench was shee--
"Now marke this rede," they bade her oft,
"Forsooken sholde your folly bee!"
But Madge, ye hoyden, laught & cried,
"Oho, oho," in girlish glee,
And noe thing mo replied.
II
No griffe she had nor knew no care,
But gayly rompit all daies long,
And, like ye brooke that everywhere
Goes jinking with a gladsome song,
Shee danct and songe from morn till night,--
Her gentil harte did know no wrong,
Nor did she none despight.
III
Sir Tomas from his noblesse halle
Did trend his path a somer's daye,
And to ye hoyden he did call
And these ffull evill words did say:
"O wolde you weare a silken gown
And binde your haire with ribands gay?
Then come with me to town!"
IV
But Madge, ye hoyden, shoke her head,--
"I'le be no lemman unto thee
For all your golde and gownes," shee said,
"ffor Robin hath bespoken mee."
Then ben Sir Tomas sore despight,
And back unto his hall went hee
With face as ashen white.
V
"O Robin, wilt thou wed this girl,
Whenas she is so vaine a sprite?"
So spak ffull many an envious churle
Unto that curteyse countrie wight.
But Robin did not pay no heede;
And they ben wed a somer night
& danct upon ye meade.
VI
Then scarse ben past a yeare & daye
Whan Robin toke unto his bed,
And long, long time therein he lay,
Nor colde not work to earn his bread;
in soche an houre, whan times ben sore,
Sr. Tomas came with haughtie tread
& knockit at ye doore.
VII
Saies: "Madge, ye hoyden, do you know
how that you once despighted me?
But He forgiff an you will go
my swete harte lady ffor to bee!"
But Madge, ye hoyden, heard noe more,--
straightway upon her heele turnt shee,
& shote ye cottage doore.
VIII
Soe Madge, ye hoyden, did her parte
whiles that ye years did come and go;
't was somer allwais in her harte,
tho' winter strewed her head with snowe.
She toilt and span thro' all those years
nor bid repine that it ben soe,
nor never shad noe teares.
IX
Whiles Robin lay within his bed,
A divell came and whispered lowe,--
"Giff you will doe my will," he said,
"None more of sickness you shall knowe!"
Ye which gave joy to Robin's soul--
Saies Robin: "Divell, be it soe,
an that you make me whoale!"
X
That day, upp rising ffrom his bed,
Quoth Robin: "I am well again!"
& backe he came as from ye dead,
& he ben mickle blithe as when
he wooed his doxy long ago;
& Madge did make ado & then
Her teares ffor joy did flowe.
XI
Then came that hell-born cloven thing--
Saies: "Robin, I do claim your life,
and I hencefoorth shall be your king,
and you shall do my evill strife.
Look round about and you shall see
sr. Tomas' young and ffoolish wiffe--
a comely dame is shee!"
XII
Ye divell had him in his power,
and not colde Robin say thereto:
Soe Robin from that very houre
did what that divell bade him do;
He wooed and dipt, and on a daye
Sr. Tomas' wife and Robin flewe
a many leagues away.
XIII
Sir Tomas ben wood wroth and swore,
And sometime strode thro' leaf & brake
and knockit at ye cottage door
and thus to Madge, ye hoyden, spake:
Saies, "I wolde have you ffor mine own,
So come with mee & bee my make,
syn tother birds ben flown."
XIV
But Madge, ye hoyden, bade him noe;
Saies: "Robin is my swete harte still,
And, tho' he doth despight me soe,
I mean to do him good for ill.
So goe, Sir Tomas, goe your way;
ffor whiles I bee on live I will
ffor Robin's coming pray!"
XV
Soe Madge, ye hoyden, kneelt & prayed
that Godde sholde send her Robin backe.
And tho' ye folke vast scoffing made,
and tho' ye worlde ben colde and blacke,
And tho', as moneths dragged away,
ye hoyden's harte ben like to crack
With griff, she still did praye.
XVI
Sicke of that divell's damnèd charmes,
Aback did Robin come at last,
And Madge, ye hoyden, sprad her arms
and gave a cry and held him fast;
And as she clong to him and cried,
her patient harte with joy did brast,
& Madge, ye hoyden, died.
poem by Eugene Field
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shannon, Silver Goddess, Flow to Sea
Shannon, silver goddess, flow to sea
And life bring you with thee
To the oceans loud and proud swell
Thy waters come, as if from a well
From which all of Ireland drinks
Your waters pure, the midlands links
With the seas wide expanse
With whose waters yours joins in a dance.
And so, silver goddess, each mile you grow,
Blesses be your waters that into the Atlantic flow.
poem by Tomás Ó Cárthaigh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Paul Polansky Sat In My Kitchen
Paul Polansky sat in my kitchen,
Eat pudding and drank black tea,
As if he were but a friend,
Who passing happened to be.
A man who worked so tirelessly
To help the Roma nation,
A far off name in a far off land,
Who for me was an inspiration.
And as we talked of politics
And culture, and history,
He was as I, and I as him,
As he chatted to Lubo and me.
Some say that God is far from this world
But I think that he is in
People like Polansky,
Though they’re human and subject to sin.
And you – and I – are like him!
Or can be, in what we do…
And we can find the that God himself
Resides within us too!
Everybody has a Kosovo
Your family may be your Roma nation…
Let God be seen in your deeds,
Let others find you an inspiration.
poem by Tomás Ó Cárthaigh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Bugle Played
A bugle as a warning played
From a watchman in the spire
Allowed a city to defend itself
From attack by Tater fire
An one of the attackers saw
The bugler making the warning call
And with arrow fired pierced his throat
Causing the music to cease and man dead to fall
And to this day in that town
That music it is played
From the same spire on the same church
Where once it was a warning to a people afraid
A siren then, why is it now
That sounds of danger are so plain
Why cant he have something as sweet
As the Hejnals sweet refrain?
poem by Tomás Ó Cárthaigh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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She Gave Birth in a Fox-Hole
Victoria Elizabeth Borg
Born June 22,1920 in Agana, Guam
Died Pearl Harbor Day 2009
Victoria sang many lullabies
to her
5 children
5 step-children
26 grandchildren
36 great grandchildren
2 great-great grandchildren
and a host of heavenly nieces and nephews.
She was married to Tomas T. Calvaron and his 5 children
on the island of Guam in 1943.
After giving birth to her daughter Rosalita
in a fox-hole during World War II
she made it through
to have 4 more children.
In 1950
she was widowed and remarried to her
brother-in-law.
She passed on to be with the Lord
surrounded by her children and granchildren.
We
her many friends and family members
will keep her memory in our minds
and her love in our hearts
until we meet again.
poem by Bob Genevro
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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After Us
I don't know if we're in the beginning
or in the final stage.
-- Tomas Tranströmer
Rain is falling through the roof.
And all that prospered under the sun,
the books that opened in the morning
and closed at night, and all day
turned their pages to the light;
the sketches of boats and strong forearms
and clever faces, and of fields
and barns, and of a bowl of eggs,
and lying across the piano
the silver stick of a flute; everything
invented and imagined,
everything whispered and sung,
all silenced by cold rain.
The sky is the color of gravestones.
The rain tastes like salt, and rises
in the streets like a ruinous tide.
We spoke of millions, of billions of years.
We talked and talked.
Then a drop of rain fell
into the sound hole of the guitar, another
onto the unmade bed. And after us,
the rain will cease or it will go on falling,
even upon itself.
poem by Connie Wanek
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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