Neglected Gardens
Weeds
from seeds
sown by youthful folly
breed
and feed)
middle-aged melancholy.
poem by Brian Taylor
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There are two barriers that often prevent communication between the young and their elders. The first is middle-aged forgetfulness of the fact that they themselves are no longer young. The second is youthful ignorance of the fact that the middle aged are still alive.
quote by Jessamyn West
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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God is blind
God is blind to man's sufferings.
Man suffers not because of he's flaws
But because he is His plaything.
Seeds are sown; with them weeds are grown.
22.07.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stock market and the goodwill
Seeds selected were good.
The time sown was good.
The time of harvest missed,
The seeds sown went as waste
21.06.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The long, dull, monotonous years of middle-aged prosperity or middle-aged adversity are excellent campaigning weather for the devil.
quote by C.S. Lewis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Seeds Of War
When the seeds of war are sown,
hardly is it ever known
who has planted it
and what for?
Was it about
blood and gore?
When the seeds of war take root
it's hidden reasons make us mute.
Why was it planted
and by whom?
Was its purpose
doom and gloom?
When the seeds of war are grown
never is it ever shown
how it is planted
in men's mind?
How it's made them
all so blind.
When the seeds of war do thrive
many will not be alive.
They'll be planted
in false graves.
These seeds propel
how the world behaves.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Hence, All You Vain Delights from the Nice Valour
Hence, all you vain delights,
As short as are the nights
Wherein you spend your folly:
There's nought in this life sweet,
If man were wise to see't,
But only melancholy,
O sweetest melancholy!
Welcome, folded arms, and fixed eyes,
A sigh that piercing mortifies,
A look that's fastened to the ground,
A tongue chained up without a sound;
Fountain-heads, and pathless groves,
Places which pale passion loves;
Moonlight walks, when all the fowls
Are warmly housed, save bats and owls;
A midnight bell, a parting groan:
These are the sounds we feed upon;
Then stretch our bones in a still gloomy valley,
Nothing's so dainty sweet as lovely melancholy.
poem by John Fletcher
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Neither you nor I
Cows breed more, deer breed more and hares breed more;
They must breed more for forests want them more.
They must feed lions, tigers and foxes
With their casualties in multitudes.
The poor breed more and the lowly breed more;
They must breed more for societies want them more
They must serve the rich, masters and leaders
With their casualties in multitudes.
Between the forests and the societies,
The difference is: forests gave no saints
Whereas the societies gave saints in chain.
No change in societies as in forests..
Who is the planer? Who can defeat him?
Who is the keeper? Who can control him?
Who is the owner? Who can approach him?
Neither you nor I can reform the world.
15.07.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Melancholy
HENCE, all you vain delights,
As short as are the nights
Wherein you spend your folly!
There 's naught in this life sweet,
If men were wise to see't,
But only melancholy--
O sweetest melancholy!
Welcome, folded arms and fixed eyes,
A sight that piercing mortifies,
A look that 's fasten'd to the ground,
A tongue chain'd up without a sound!
Fountain-heads and pathless groves,
Places which pale passion loves!
Moonlight walks, when all the fowls
Are warmly housed, save bats and owls!
A midnight bell, a parting groan--
These are the sounds we feed upon:
Then stretch our bones in a still gloomy valley,
Nothing 's so dainty sweet as lovely melancholy.
poem by John Fletcher
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The Tea Shop
The girl in the tea shop
Is not so beautiful as she was,
The August has worn against her.
She does not get up the stairs so eagerly;
Yes, she also will turn middle-aged,
And the glow of youth that she spread about us
As she brought us our muffins
Will be spread about us no longer.
She also will turn middle-aged.
poem by Ezra Pound
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Illiteracy
some homes breed love
some homes breed hatred
some homes breed moderation
some homes breed extremes
some homes breed worldliness
some homes breed racism
some homes breed kindness
somehomes breed religious bigotry
throw in illiteracy and any country would be bloom to bits
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Light Of The Day
hmmm...
Will my love, will my love be unsolved?
Still as I wander, though I'm nearly done
I can see, I can see I'm alone
Time understanding the seeds that I've sown
Understanding the seeds that I've sown
I could see by the light of the day that has gone, oh oh
I could see by the light of the day that has gone
Thinking of days that I whittled away, now they're gone, gone, oh oh
What did I find was there?
Gone, gone, oh oh, now will my heart find where?
hmmm...
I can see by the light of the day that has gone.
song performed by by Kula Shaker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Is Love?
What is Love?
Is it a folly,
Is it mirth, or melancholy?
Joys above,
Are there many, or not any?
What is Love?
If you please,
A most sweet folly!
Full of mirth and melancholy:
Both of these!
In its sadness worth all gladness,
If you please!
Prithee where,
Goes Love a-hiding?
Is he long in his abiding
Anywhere?
Can you bind him when you find him;
Prithee, where?
With spring days
Love comes and dallies:
Upon the mountains, through the valleys
Lie Love's ways.
Then he leaves you and deceives you
In spring days.
poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson
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The Past
Humming around the winter is the past,
This congratulates me as the last.
Years of daily amounts created laughter,
Mostly from seeds sown to glory and slaughter.
My music creates joy, all along and forever,
Lost is the happiness strongly in the endeavour.
May life contaminate the young and old,
Its powers feed us with triumph and gold.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Tribute to Oliver Goldsmith
Tribute to O.Goldsmith
When a lovely woman stoops to folly
and finds too late that men betray.
What can cure her melancholy?
what can wash her guilt away?
Oliver Goldsmith
When a lovely woman stoops to folly
then she alone must bear the shame.
She had her fling but now by golly
she finds that she has lost the game.
And finds too late that men betray.
It was her choice she took her
her lust with no delay
and joined him in the oldest dance.
What can cure her melancholy?
Except perhaps a new affair
another essay into folly.
Has she the courage will she dare.
What can wash her guilt away?
She can pretend to innocence
What no one knows no one can say.
Her silence is her best defence.
18-Feb-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Auschwitz
Once I overheard a middle-aged Jewish woman
talking to her Rabbi
telling him of how she and a friend
travelled to Auschwitz
and finding so much sadness there
decided to do something happy
as if to spite the sadness.
So they danced on the railway line
leading to that camp of death-
two middle-aged women holding each other.
This to me say so much about the human spirit.
If I could I would paint a picture.
Will someone paint it for me please?
poem by Gillian Commerford
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Sentimental & Melancholy
Johnny mercer / richard whiting
Sentimental and melancholy
Whenever i think about you
It's only a mood,
A brief interlude
That's better described as just feeling blue
I suppose that it's just my folly
To keep it alive as i do
But it's a kind of sugar coated misery
And foolish as it seems
I thought i'd like to be
Sentimental and melancholy
Whenever i think about you
song performed by by Billie Holiday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sentimental Melancholy
Johnny mercer / richard whiting
Sentimental and melancholy
Whenever I think about you
Its only a mood,
A brief interlude
Thats better described as just feeling blue
I suppose that its just my folly
To keep it alive as I do
But its a kind of sugar coated misery
And foolish as it seems
I thought Id like to be
Sentimental and melancholy
Whenever I think about you
song performed by by Billie Holiday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You and I are poorer.
Which wife is nobler than
Who hire maids to feed her spouse
So that he does not stray out?
Which maid is abler than
Who bears seeds of the lord
To give her spouse a high breed?
Which husband is higher than
Who overlooks incest relations
So that his spouse is free off scandals?
You and I are poorer.
19.08.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fields Of People
Wildflowers grow everywhere
Vibrations flow, things will have to change
(good evening, madam. its a recording. yes.)
Strange new ideas fill the air
Some people leave, others grieve
Some were bare but things will change
Old concepts go, new ones grow
All at once the world begins to love again
(..... hello uncle bill)
And the wildflowers grow out of fields
Fields of people
Theres no such thing as a weed
Seeds of hatred
Plant them and soon they will breed
(going to the pub, are you? evening madam.)
Wildflowers grow everywhere
Vibrations flow, things will have to change
(good evening, madam. its a recording. yes.)
Strange new ideas fill the air
Some people leave, others grieve
Some were bare but things will change
Old concepts go, new ones grow
All at once the world begins to love again
(..... hello uncle bill)
And the wildflowers grow out of fields
Love of people
Theres no such thing as a weed
Seeds of hatred
Plant them and soon they will breed
Fields of people
Theres no such thing as a weed
Seeds of hatred
Plant them and soon they will feed
Wildflowers grow everywhere
Vibrations flow, things will have to change
(good evening, madam. its a recording. yes.)
Strange new ideas fill the air
Some people leave, others grieve
Some were bare but things will change
Old concepts go, new ones grow
All at once the world begins to love again
(..... hello uncle bill)
And the wildflowers grow out of fields
(theres a bloke out here looking for the band)
Theres no such thing as a weed
Seeds of hatred
Plant them and soon they will breed
Theres no such thing as a weed
Seeds of hatred
Plant them and soon they will breed
Theres no such thing as a weed
Seeds of hatred
Plant them and soon they will breed
(here we are now in great portland street. ah, good evening sir, i
Wonder would you like to come over here and say a few words in the
Microphone. oh. it catches one a bit off balance suddenly to be
Interrupted in the street. I got one. hello, I dont wanna taxi. what i
Want is this. youre a tazi driver, and we wanna taxi drivers opinion
On pop music. I think its very good mate. just cause I gettin a bit
Anciant dont mean to say I dont enjoy it. good. toot your organ and
Well be away.)
(hold it. one more time, its a bit ragged. try one more. here we go.)
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Europe to me is young people trying to appear middle-aged and middle-aged people trying to appear young.
quote by Mike Myers
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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