One must have a heart of stone to read the death of Little Nell without laughing.
quote by Oscar Wilde
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Are A Stone Hearted
You are a stone hearted
that so my heart is bleeding
with your one hit
What my fragile heart will understand
harshness of your heart and
what your heart will understand
delicacy of my heart
My heart is more placid
than petal of any flower
Your heart is stone
that can overcome high tides of oceans
No fire can burn your heart
because you are a stone hearted
My heart can fuse with your little love
that so I hug without any care
or dare for life and death
My heart is a flower
Your heart is a stone
As a stone I worship your heart
offer my flower heart
Either you love or kick off
But my heart is made to adore you only.
poem by Ramesh Rai
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The Devoutly Thankful Lover
So Nell was married yesterday! -
Let's fill a bumper mellow,
And drain it to old Hymen's sway -
And to the lucky fellow.
Time was when 1 was 'gone' on her:
When each day I'd discover
Fresh charms to make my pulses stir,
And-fool-like-act the lover.
Her eyes were bright as stars at night,
Her lips were like to coral,
And Nell was, in her lover's sight,
As beautiful as moral.
But now with joy we drink his health,
Whom Nell did most prefer,
And wish him lots of luck and wealth
Who's lately married her.
I loved - for Nell was fair and tall,
And sweet as fragrant clover -
But now I love her most of all
Because - she threw me over.
poem by Harry 'Breaker' Harbord Morant
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I Shouldve Known Better
Its been a long time comin and the card were stacked.
Its been a long hard road to hell and back.
Your love meant trouble from the day we met.
You won every hand, I lost every bet.
Now youd think that I shouldve known better.
Now I think that I shouldve seen it come.
My heart sank when I read that letter.
It sank like a stone, it sank like a stone.
A cup of cold coffee, yesterdays mail.
A bad love like this is always bound to fail.
Your love meant trouble from the day we met.
If you want your things, theyre on the front step.
Now youd think that I shouldve known better.
Now I think that I shouldve seen it come.
My heart sank when I read that letter.
It sank like a stone, it sank like a stone.
All alone in my kitchen.
All alone in my head.
Somethings you cant take back, once theyve been said.
I dont know what this love is for.
All I know is I dont want it anymore.
Now youd think that I shouldve known better.
Now I think that I shouldve seen it come.
My heart sank when I read that letter.
It sank like a stone, it sank like a stone.
song performed by by Nickel Creek
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Death and I
When death comes
I’ll need not love –
Consumed,
No wreath or dove
Could offer me salvation,
Not when I’m no more.
A weathered stone will bear my name –
Identity of once a being
Living out existence in
A world of risk, and never seeing
Sense of why we’re here.
My genes will die away thro’ child –
Hue of eyes and hair, the way of thought,
Will quickly dim with generation –
Bow to future dominance –
Memories of provenance
Resigned to curious few.
When death comes
I’ll need not grace
Below; no grieving face
Will call my resurrection,
Not when I’m at ground –
Death and I so bound.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
D eath Crawl
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Maude Clare
Out of the church she followed them
With a lofty step and mien:
His bride was like a village maid,
Maude Clare was like a queen.
“Son Thomas, ” his lady mother said,
With smiles, almost with tears:
“May Nell and you but live as true
As we have done for years;
“Your father thirty years ago
Had just your tale to tell;
But he was not so pale as you,
Nor I so pale as Nell.”
My lord was pale with inward strife,
And Nell was pale with pride;
My lord gazed long on pale Maude Clare
Or ever he kissed the bride.
“Lo, I have brought my gift, my lord,
Have brought my gift, ” she said:
To bless the hearth, to bless the board,
To bless the marriage-bed.
“Here’s my half of the golden chain
You wore about your neck,
That day we waded ankle-deep
For lilies in the beck:
“Here’s my half of the faded leaves
We plucked from the budding bough,
With feet amongst the lily leaves, -
The lilies are budding now.”
He strove to match her scorn with scorn,
He faltered in his place:
“Lady, ” he said, - “Maude Clare, ” he said, -
“Maude Clare, ” – and hid his face.
She turn’d to Nell: “My Lady Nell,
I have a gift for you;
Though, were it fruit, the blooms were gone,
Or, were it flowers, the dew.
“Take my share of a fickle heart,
Mine of a paltry love:
Take it or leave it as you will,
I wash my hands thereof.”
“And what you leave, ” said Nell, “I’ll take,
And what you spurn, I’ll wear;
For he’s my lord for better and worse,
And him I love Maude Clare.
“Yea, though you’re taller by the head,
More wise and much more fair:
I’ll love him till he loves me best,
Me best of all Maude Clare.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Laughing
I'm laughing at your funny face
I'm laughing at this funny place
I'm laughing in my space
I'm laughing at a fast pace
I'm laughing and cannot stop
I'm laughing feeling the bop
I'm laughing at your top
I'm laughing with a cop
My stomach hurts
My cheeks are sore
Yet I want to laugh some more
Just want to laugh day and night
Want to laugh 'cause it feels alright
I'm laughing with Pat
I'm laughing at the cat
I'm laughing at the mat
I'm laughing as the cat sat
Giggle, Giggle, Giggle
Giggle, Giggle, Giggle
Giggle, Giggle.
©Copyright 2010 Willmington. All rights reserved
poem by Somniator Moon
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The Bird of Paradise
Here comes Kate Summers, who, for gold,
Takes any man to bed:
"You knew my friend, Nell Barnes," she said;
"You knew Nell Barnes -- she's dead.
"Nell Barnes was bad on all you men,
Unclean, a thief as well;
Yet all my life I have not found
A better friend than Nell.
"So I sat at her side at last,
For hours, till she was dead;
And yet she had no sense at all
Of any word I said.
"For all her cry but came to this --
'Not for the world! Take care:
Don't touch that bird of paradise,
Perched on the bed-post there!'
"I asked her would she like some grapes,
Som damsons ripe and sweet;
A custard made with new-laid eggs,
Or tender fowl to eat.
"I promised I would follow her,
To see her in her grave;
And buy a wreath with borrowed pence,
If nothing I could save.
"Yet still her cry but came to this --
'Not for the world! Take care:
Don't touch that bird of paradise,
Perched on the bed-post there!' "
poem by William Henry Davies
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Little Nell
GLEAMING through the silent church-yard,
Winter sunlight seemed to shed
Golden shadows like soft blessings
O'er a quiet little bed,
Where a pale face lay unheeding
Tender tears that o'er it fell;
No sorrow now could touch the heart
Of gentle little Nell.
Ah, with what silent patient strength
The frail form lying there
Had borne its heavy load of grief,
Of loneliness and care.
Now, earthly burdens were laid down,
And on the meek young face
There shone a holier loveliness
Than childhood's simple grace.
Beset with sorrow, pain and fear,
Tempted by want and sin,
With none to guide or counsel her
But the brave child-heart within.
Strong in her fearless, faithful love,
Devoted to the last,
Unfaltering through gloom and gleam
The little wanderer passed.
Hand in hand they journeyed on
Through pathways strange and wild,
The gray-haired, feeble, sin-bowed man
Led by the noble child.
So through the world's dark ways she passed,
Till o'er the church-yard sod,
To the quiet spot where they found rest,
Those little feet had trod.
To that last resting-place on earth
Kind voices bid her come,
There her long wanderings found an end,
And weary Nell a home.
A home whose light and joy she was,
Though on her spirit lay
A solemn sense of coming change,
That deepened day by day.
There in the church-yard, tenderly,
Through quiet summer hours,
Above the poor neglected graves
She planted fragrant flowers.
The dim aisles of the ruined church
Echoed the child's light tread,
And flickering sunbeams thro' the leaves
Shone on her as she read.
And here where a holy silence dwelt,
And golden shadows fell,
When Death's mild face had looked on her,
They laid dear happy Nell.
Long had she wandered o'er the earth,
One hand to the old man given,
By the other angels led her on
Up a sunlit path to Heaven.
Oh! 'patient, loving, noble Nell,'
Like light from sunset skies,
The beauty of thy sinless life
Upon the dark world lies.
On thy sad story, gentle child,
Dim eyes will often dwell,
And loving hearts will cherish long
The memory of Nell.
poem by Louisa May Alcott
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Voice Of Night
voice....voice of night
in the dark forest
walk by the fear
shadow of trees
the blood curdling masks
for the forest
laughing....
voice of Animals
werewolf in the dark
eyes look at me
side by side
walk with me
walk in the dark forest
shine...
I run, run
for free
shine, , , ,
voices...
werewolfs chace behinde me
scream...
free
shine
runaway,
run
shine
fear
I yelling
werewolfs laughing
voice of happy
cry of fears
shine
free
white stone front me
freedom is only hallucination
freedom is only mirage
freedom is dead end
werewolfs.....
laughing.....
aggress to me
I fear
I cry
My tears in the eart
I look at sky
sky is dark
sky is cloudly
tears....dark rains
I laughing....laughing....laughing
disembowel... .
blood....
dismember
werewolfs...
vo ice of night
howler in the forest
dark sky
freedom
red stone was stone of freedom
die for freedom
die....
poem by Aidin Azarkerdar
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A Man Young And Old: VII. The Friends Of His Youth
Laughter not time destroyed my voice
And put that crack in it,
And when the moon's pot-bellied
I get a laughing fit,
For that old Madge comes down the lane,
A stone upon her breast,
And a cloak wrapped about the stone,
And she can get no rest
With singing hush and hush-a-bye;
She that has been wild
And barren as a breaking wave
Thinks that the stone's a child.
And Peter that had great affairs
And was a pushing man
Shrieks, 'I am King of the Peacocks,'
And perches on a stone;
And then I laugh till tears run down
And the heart thumps at my side,
Remembering that her shriek was love
And that he shrieks from pride.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Angry Hills
heaven it shines in the dawn's early light
in a movement out in the brush
far out!
watering graves of the people who read in the book
of forbidden content
tragedy!
in a gentle way hear the angry hills
in a gentle way hear them laughing
imagination under attack for the
pictures I can't even think
i don't even know them
in a gentle way hear the angry hills
in a gentle way hear them laughing
in a gentle way
in a gentle way hear the angry hills
in a gentle way i am laughing
yes i am laughing
i am laughing
yes i am laughing
song performed by by Iggy Pop
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cutting stone
Cutting stone I went
And the stone cutter
Asked me to retained.
Stone flower I plucked
And you stayed all day long
To watered the stone plant.
I have a poem that is yours
You denied to read before all
I made a secret tie destroyed.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Nell and John
When Nell, given o'er by the doctor, was dying,
And John at the chimney stood decently crying,
'Tis in vain said the woman to make such ado,
For to our long home we must all of us go.
True, Nell, replied John; but what yet is the worst
For us that remain, the best always go first;
Remember, dear wife, that I said so last year,
When you lost your white heifer, and I my brown mare.
poem by Matthew Prior
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Like A Stone
On a cold wet
Afternoon
No room for love and emptiness
By a freeway
I confess I was lost in the pages
Of a book
Full of death
Reading how well die alone
And if a God will lay to rest
Anywhere we want to go
In your house
I long to be
Room by room
Patiently
Ill wait for you there
Like a stone
Ill wait for you there
Alone
And on my death bed
I will prey
To the gods and the angels
Like a pagan
To anyone who will take me to heaven
To a place
I would recall
I was there so long ago
The sky was bruised
The world was black
And there you led me on
In your house
I long to be
Room by room
Patiently
Ill wait for you there
Liek a stone
Ill wait for you there
Alone
In all I read
Till the day was gone
And I sat in regret
In all the things Ive done
For all that Ive blessed
And all that Ive wronged
In dreams till my death
I will wonder on
In your house
I long to be
Room by room
Patiently
Ill wait for you there
Like a stone
Ill wait for you there
Alone
Alone
song performed by by Audioslave
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Everybodys Laughing
Sammy lerner / ben oakland
Everybodys laughing
Yes everybodys laughing
They know that you and I are through
And everybodys laughing
I told the world you loved me
And bragged about it proudly
But since they know its over
Theyre laughing at me loudly.
People love to linger
So they can point a finger
And tear apart a gal whose heart
Was taken through the wringer
It we could start all over
The laugh might be on them
But meanwhile
Everybodys laughing
It we could start all over
The laugh might be on them
But meanwhile
Everybodys laughing
song performed by by Billie Holiday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Sound of Silence
I’m walking down the street
and I hear the sculptor in his house
working on his statue of Krishna
and the chisel rings out on the stone
like a bell that wants to tell you something:
the stone saying, I am perfectly made for this;
the chisel saying, I am perfectly made for this;
the sculptor saying, this is prayer;
Krishna saying, I shall enter this.
And I hear in the sound of the chisel on the stone,
as sure as I know my own name,
that the sculptor is listening to all this too.
The bell-like sound lingers in the air
as if the air would keep it for ever
as the air’s prayer. It’s music.
The clearer the sound
of his striking chisel on stone,
the deeper the silence
as if sound and silence between them
know a secret: that sounds like this
can do anything in the world;
even call Krishna with their music
to play at being stone for us.
The stone’s laughing also:
playing at being Krishna.
They’re both laughing.
The sculptor is smiling too.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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A-Shelling Peas
Now, all the world is green and bright
Outside the latticed pane;
The fields are decked with gold and white,
And Spring has come again.
But though the world be fair without,
With flow'rs and waving trees,
'Tis pleasanter to be about
Where Nell's a-shelling peas.
Her eyes are blue as cloudless skies,
And dimples deck her cheeks;
Whilst soft lights loiter in her eyes
Whene'er she smiles or speaks.
So all the sunlit morning-tide
I dally at mine ease,
To loaf at slender Nelly's side
When Nell's a-shelling peas.
This bard, who sits a-watching Nell,
With fingers white and slim,
Owns up that, as she breaks each shell,
She also "breaks up" him;
And could devoutly drop upon
Submissive, bended knees
To worship Nell with apron on -
A saint a-shelling peas.
The tucked-up muslin sleeves disclose
Her round arms white and bare -
'Tis only "shelling peas" that shows
Those dainty dimples there.
Old earth owns many sights to see
That captivate and please; -
The most bewitching sight for me
Is Nell a-shelling peas.
poem by Harry 'Breaker' Harbord Morant
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Her Bliss
Death is in the flower's heart –
Why to cry for life of any petal?
Death in purple ink of weary pens
Betrays the written yearnings
On her scented paper.
Death is laughing in her cry;
Her broken heart forlorn upon the sleeve.
Death ignores the plight of any purity –
He doesn’t care or seem to be aware of
What her dewy eye desires,
For Death beckoned:
'Embrace the jar! '
And yes, she did –
For Death, of course.
After all, no other man would
Open up her hand and bid her with a kiss,
So Death became her bliss.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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The Stone That You Love
you are unique
for having loved a stone
how did the stone
entice you?
are you seduced by
its silence?
are you tempted by
its solitude?
you take the pain
poking the stone to
your heart
and you bleed
you rub the stone
in the skin of your body
hoping that someday
the stone may have
feelings and
love you
but this is all useless
the stone is a stone is a stone
and there is no love
in its blank stare
there is no softness in its
belly
i ponder upon this
and come to think of it
you and the stone
are the same
on this hardheadedness
this futility
this numbness
this suffering without end
the stone can never give
a part of its cracks
it will never part with its
dust
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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When You Least Expect It
Knock-kneed Nell had stories to tell
About all the sights she'd seen.
That sexy sway began her day....
Thinking how things could have been.
'I'll not condone a herringbone
For the price you want to pay!
Be off down the alley, old fool!
But, one man decided to stay.
Nell clawed like a cat, hissed, and spat.
The man stood his ground, and laughed.
'We'll take this to the marriage vows!
Clean my house, and cook my food!
In the marriage bed you can sass! '
poem by Elysabeth Faslund
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