My Faithful Mother Tongue
Faithful mother tongue,
I have been serving you.
Every night, I used to set before you little bowls of colors
so you could have your birch, your cricket, your finch
as preserved in my memory.
This lasted many years.
You were my native land; I lacked any other.
I believed that you would also be a messenger
between me and some good people
even if they were few, twenty, ten
or not born, as yet.
Now, I confess my doubt.
There are moments when it seems to me I have squandered my life.
For you are a tongue of the debased,
of the unreasonable, hating themselves
even more than they hate other nations,
a tongue of informers,
a tongue of the confused,
ill with their own innocence.
But without you, who am I?
Only a scholar in a distant country,
a success, without fears and humiliations.
Yes, who am I without you?
Just a philosopher, like everyone else.
I understand, this is meant as my education:
the glory of individuality is taken away,
Fortune spreads a red carpet
before the sinner in a morality play
while on the linen backdropp a magic lantern throws
images of human and divine torture.
Faithful mother tongue,
perhaps after all it's I who must try to save you.
So I will continue to set before you little bowls of colors
bright and pure if possible,
for what is needed in misfortune is a little order and beauty.
poem by Czeslaw Milosz
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Related quotes
The mute singer
She cut out her tongue
So she could sing
Those unheard songs
sung
She cut out her tongue
So silently
She could unspeak herself
Free, from prison words
She cut out her tongue
So that her soul could catch the light
And let it run
Through her body transparent
Prism shining out
She cut out her tongue
To free her self
From her self
Completion
Knitted under the skin of silence
Flying unseen
Into unexplored horizons
Without
Mother
Country
Point of
Trace
She cut out her tongue
To see the eyes
Behind the face
yvette m smith sept 08
poem by Yvette Smith
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Tongues
the tongue
of my body
is in the nerves
the tongue
of my soul
in the heart
the tongue of
my mind
in the head
the tongue
of truth and deceits
in the mouth
the tongue of
the World (Creation)
in the words
of God
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Classical Tamil World Conference (Semmozhi Tamizh Ulaga Manadu)
Through you, I came, Mother;
Lucky was my birth in Bharat, my Motherland;
I was nurtured and grew up by mother’s milk;
I drew strength from my mother’s love.
I knew the world through my mother-tongue;
I learnt most things by mother-tongue;
Thanks to my dear earthly mother;
Thanks to my Mother, Tamil!
The place where I was born was Tamilnadu;
Tamil is my mother-tongue;
Tamil was my first breath;
My first cry was in Tamil.
My last breath shall be Tamil;
My life will be for Tamil;
I am proud of my mother-tongue, Tamil;
I am proud to be a Tamilian!
Tamil is a great language;
Tamil is a popular language;
Tamil is an ancient language;
Tamil is a classical language.
Tamil is a world language;
Tamil is a language of Gods!
Dedicated to ‘Classical Tamil World Conference,2010, Coimbatore’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 23-06-2010
poem by John Celes
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Sugar On My Tongue
Oh, oh, Oh, oh,she's my neighbour
Fill my cup, I'll bet you baby
She'll fill it up
She'll drop the sugar on my tongue
Will she gimme gimme gimme some
She's gonna put sugar on my tongue
She's gonna gimme gimme gimme some
She'll put it right there on my tongue
Put it right there on my tongue
Sweet sweet, lover lover
Never never never find another
to put sugar on my tongue
Gimme gimme gimme some
Is she gonna put sugar on my tongue?
Is she gonna gimme gimme gimme some?
She'll put it right there on my tongue
Put it right there on my tongue
I've been waiting years and years
Finally I see that you appear
My friends are here, and they ask of me
'Is this the time that we're gonna see
her put the sugar on my tongue?'
Is she gonna put sugar on my tongue?
Is she gonna put sugar on my tongue?
Is she gonna gimme gimme some?
She'll put it right there on my tongue
put it right there on my tongue
Sugar on my tongue
Oh, oh, oh...
song performed by by Talking Heads
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Another Poem For Marvin, Who Is Not Responding To A Calling
“Literature takes shape and life in the body,
in the wombs of the mother tongue.”
- Ursula K. Le Guin
marvin, this time
this is the only time that you are called for this mission
the tongue
of your mother,
go back to it
take your shape
and life there
the reason why
we were defeated
it is their tongue that we are using
and on the first poem that we made
they were laughing
and laughing still
how much useless effort shall we waste some more?
and how many fools will there be like us
laughing when they laugh at us
and still imitating their tongues
when they have become so humiliatingly poisonous?
do you still remember how your mother tongue sound?
it is sweet, so sweet marvin
i hear the songs of the angels and they are all waiting.
the place that i have told you
i will meet you there
cindy and candice are waiting
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sonnet: The Tongue
Tongue, the muscle belly in the mouth’s floor!
That grandmothers used to narrate folklore;
With sensors to taste the food that we eat,
And speak fluently with neighbors who cheat.
The boneless tongue gives creatures satiety;
In misdemeanor, speaks words so nasty;
The tongue-tied man cannot speak out too well;
The one with a long tongue argues like hell.
The tongue can emit both a soothing word,
And also cut like a double-edged sword;
The tongue helps one to sing a sweet song,
And touch one’s nose-tip whenever too long.
The tongue can start a war or conclude it;
Some stars use it for their kissing habit.
poem by John Celes
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Ode To The Child
the child is the
father, mother
mentor of the man
he gathers the whole
language for him
his mother tongue
with all the shades of meaning
in the first many years of his life
when you hear a man speak
he is speaking the tongue
of his childhood
when you hear a man lie
he is lying on the inoncence
of his childhood
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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In the Same Cell
(They are Tamils. I am a Sinhalese in same country called Sri Lanka.)
They murmur and exchange
In their own mother tongue
I was a dumb person
Because of the language
I talk
In my tongue
He reacts and learns
As he knows little bit
In the same cell of same act
Between the death and life
We passed time without a meaning.
Looks at me
Makes change and
Closes with loyalty
Clearing face with smiles
Thereafter
We
Composed words
With crippling time
Exchanging a lot
Among each other.
As mutes sometimes
Had to be with another's
Silence was the greatest tongue
Understood hearts to each other
Danger beckons untold secrets
Came out at the sleepless nights
Identifying the souls.
The image changed
He and I brought
We together drew a new picture
Point of the pen of language
Taking the colors of trust
While the time
We imprisoned in the camp
Called "Boossa Detention camp"
poem by Udaya R. Tennakoon
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Faith With Works
Bridle the tongue,
And be the doers of the law than the hearers;
Of a beastly system,
The tongue is like a fire!
It is an unruly evil and no man can tame it.
The tongue,
You need faith with works to be saved;
The tongue,
Faith without works is dead.
Like a thief in the night,
Do turn your hearts from hatred and turn to love and mercy.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Tongue Bath
Yeah, (ohhh), we got the hood rats in the house right
(Would you like a tongue bath babe)
They say they like tongue bath (from the back)
So, uh, we went and got Methron
But of course, it's the Ying-Yang Twins
Let me see you freak your body
I won't stop until you get enough
Anyway you want it, I'm with it
I just wanna get up in it
(You want a tongue bath, you need a tongue bath)
Let me see you freak your body
I won't stop until you get enough
A tongue bath, from the back
Oh yes, that's the way I like it
(You want a tongue bath, you need a tongue bath)
Forget about that Summer we stretched straight thuggin it up
In the tongue bath world we was loving it up
I've been told by the eye we were holding each other
To the room, sexual, of the Isley Brothers
Sippin' Alazez and Hennessee, straight thug passion
Licking nipples, got you gigglin', so you started to laugh
And now it's getting so erotic baby
All of a sudden so I'm kissing on your body baby
Admit it babb
See baby a tongue bath is what I like
Lick me up, lick me down, curve my appetite
Let me open up my legs, show me what you got
The way you licking on my body's got me really hot
And I'm loving the way you lick me though
Do it little daddy, let your tongue take control
You got me shaking like hell when you're licking my toes
From the top to the bottom, make your tongue roll
Let me see you freak your body
I won't stop until you get enough
Anyway you want it, I'm with it
I just wanna get up in it
(You want a tongue bath, you need a tongue bath)
Let me see you freak your body
I won't stop until you get enough
A tongue bath, from the back
Oh yes, that'
song performed by by Ying Yang Twins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kissing is a rehearsal.
I managed to kiss her on lips.
Lips unlocked, my tongue slipped in.
It darted through lips and about
Her mouth, touching her tongue on tip
Then at bottom and at corners,
Sucking the tongue and swallowing the juice
Till she got fire at her bottom.
Resistance gone, she surrendered.
Kissing is just a rehearsal.
Her mouth stands for her lower one.
Man's tongue stands for his under part.
The tongue signals the man's prowess.
09.08.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Understanding Women
Grassfly didn’t understand women;
Never quite grasped their fundamental
Psychology; never quite knew the trick
To get them on his side. His mother was
A matriarch who ruled the home with a
Big stick and a tongue like a viper’s spit.
Got to understand women, son, she’d say,
Else your limp life’ll be worth shit. He loved
To play piano; it gave him an outlet playing
His Schubert or Chopin pieces against the
Backdropp of his mother’s tongue. His woman
Friend, Big Bess, who wore outlandish clothes
And an XXL dress, was a mystery to him, like
Some character from Finnegan’s Wake, who
Loved to dance and say, Look Boy, see my big
Ass shake. Grassfly thought women an enigma;
God’s afterthought; the proverbial eater of
Apples, the talker with snakes. He played his
Piano pieces, watched with dulled disinterest,
Big Bess’s breasts and broad ass shake.
poem by Terry Collett
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Tongue Tied
Before I spoke
Your voice was moving here
The water safe
This way
That way
I feel his thoughts
Your choice
It's all there
There comes a time to find
Piece of mind
Take some time to let go
'Cos I wanna know
So tongue tied
I can tell what's on your mind
So tongue tied
But I want you by my side
And I wait
And I wait here for a while
Just to see your smile
So tongue tied
I can tell what's on your mind
The day I mean
A sign a world too
To get you back in mine
For a time
The cloudy phase
But I do wanan hear from you
The only one to feel
In a here
You have a mind of your own
And I wanan know
So tongue tied
I can tell what's on your mind
So tongue tied
But I want you by my side
And I wait
And I wait here for a while
Just to see your smile
So tongue tied
I can tell what's on your mind
We appear there is fear
Be right here
So tongue tied
I can tell what's on your mind
So tongue tied
But I want you by my side
And I wait
And I wait here for a while
Just to see your smile
So tongue tied
I can tell what's on your mind
song performed by by Holly Valance
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Idiosyncrasy and Inferiority Complex
* Vanishing table manners of a deprived loner
I see you have 1212 poems (currently) on PH. I also see you comment regularly on other members' work (though I don't think you have commented on my own) . I wonder why you have sent this to me without any idea of what you want me to do about it. If you could explain what you want (just my thoughts on this piece of writing?) I might be able to help. Most people wanting a comment on a poem post it on the site and invite others to read it.
Paul Hansford
I belong to the small Island Sri Lanka
Once a British colony, I gathered few words from your mother tongue
And my vocabulary is too small, Sorry Sir and I try to improve myself.
A painter either famous or not his brush strikes on the canvas
And the bristles never refuse to absorb the different colors.
He himself has the freedom of choice.
But a poet? Why all these restrictions of adjectives and grammar?
If he tells of his mother tongue very few understand
But his slang English some try to realize?
Let him scribble as the trash bins never refuse him.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Take This Longing
Many men have loved the bells
You fastened to the rein,
And everyone who wanted you
They found what they will always want again.
Your beauty lost to you yourself
Just as it was lost to them.
Oh take this longing from my tongue,
Whatever useless things these hands have done.
Let me see your beauty broken down
Like you would do for one you love.
Your body like a searchlight
My poverty revealed,
I would like to try your charity
Until you cry, now you must try my greed.
And everything depends upon
How near you sleep to me
Just take this longing from my tongue
All the lonely things my hands have done.
Let me see your beauty broken down
Like you would do for one your love.
Hungry as an archway
Through which the troops have passed,
I stand in ruins behind you,
With your winter clothes, your broken sandal straps.
I love to see you naked over there
Especially from the back.
Oh take this longing from my tongue,
All the useless things my hands have done,
Untie for me your hired blue gown,
Like you would do for one that you love.
Youre faithful to the better man,
Im afraid that he left.
So let me judge your love affair
In this very room where I have sentenced
Mine to death.
Ill even wear these old laurel leaves
That hes shaken from his head.
Just take this longing from my tongue,
All the useless things my hands have done,
Let me see your beauty broken down,
Like you would do for one you love.
Like you would do for one you love.
song performed by by Leonard Cohen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bad Picture
this long tongue of the salamander
catching a fly
and perhaps regretting the taste
throws it out
but with long time hunger
regrets again and throws its tongue
to take back
the double dead fly.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Mother Tongue
A secretive being provides safety for the individual,
My cancers grow and multiply for every one acceptable.
Let hardness be attached to the so many words
In this high and mighty language, the one of hazards.
Must we seek caves and crevices for our illness
To disappear finally and successfully in stillness?
The being inside is like an island of woes,
I have hidden all these grand avocados.
Let secrets spoil the words so plentiful in this tongue,
The tongue is the mother tongue, and it is hung.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Broken Face
I got a broken face
I got a
I got a broken face
Uh-hu, uh-hu, uh-hu, uh-hu, ooo
I got a broken face (3x)
There was this boy who had two
Children with his sisters
They were his daughters
They were his favourite lovers
I got no lips, I got no tongue
Whatever I say is only spit
I got no lips, I got no tongue
I got a broken face, uh-hu, uh-hu
I got a broken face
There was this man who snapped his poke
In little pieces
And then they drilled holes
And then they put em back in there
I got no lips, I got no tongue
Whatever I say is only spit
I got no lips, I got no tongue
I got a broken face
Uh-hu, uh-hu, uh-hu, uh-hu, ooo
I got a broken face
The little thing who does my laundry
Speaks no english
But if you saw her
Youd say isnt she lovely
I got no lips, I got no tongue
Whatever I say is only spit
I got no lips, I got no tongue
song performed by by Pixies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Basorexia
you have infected my mind
and my tongue is restless
hungry, craving, crazy
for the next kiss and the next and the next
and the next
my tongue hand in hand with your tongue
exploring the contours of the gums and teeth
our taste buds bursting like flames.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Like Candy On The Tongue
Up on the hill, day after day,
watching the world around him unfold, from his amphitheater on the bay
Sits a leader of the modern world, on a summer holiday
While the world around him struggles, with the problems of the day
Like candy on the tongue, and the hot Mediterranean sun
all the colors will ere long fade away
All round the world, headless and astray
An old Greek tragedy, acts on the world stage, rewritten for new actors, its a laughable play
With an endless budget, a first recipe for delay
While the leader of the modern world, watches sailing boats at play
Like candy on the tongue, and the hot Mediterranean sun
all the colors will ere long fade away
How could they do without him, It's a laughable play
With an endless budget, on summer holiday
Simple things amuse him
His brother's love confuse him
They are totally adrift / lost without him
he'll come, but not today
Up on the hill, day after day,
watching the world around him unfold, from his amphitheater on the bay
Like candy on the tongue, and the hot Mediterranean sun
all the colors will ere long fade away
Copyright Colin Coplin 2012
poem by Colin Coplin
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