Rejected
WE wandered down the meadow way--
The path beside the hedge is shady,--
You did not see the silver may,
You talked of Art, my sweet blind Lady.
You talked of values and of tone,
Of square touch and New English crazes;
Could you not see we were alone,
Where God's hand paints the world with daisies?
You spoke of Paris and of Rome
And in the hedgerow's thorny shadows
A white-throat sang a song of home,
Of English lanes and English meadows.
You talked about the aims of Art
And how all Art must needs be moral;
I heard you with a sinking heart
And watched the waving crimson sorrel.
For when I found you had not heard
The song--nor seen the dewy clover,
I cared no more to find the word
Should make you hear and see a lover!
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Related quotes
I Love You Too Much
We talked and talked and talked and talked for hours
An ocean or two couldnt keep me away from you
We spoke about the time and place of our first meeting
Without a word I know you knew that I cared about you
I love you too much
I love you too much
I love you too much
I love you too much
Been one too many lonely nights without you
On one too many trains and boats and planes
I spent a thousand nights alone before I met you
And Ill spend many more until we meet again
I love you too much
I love you too much
I love you too much
I love you too much
song performed by by Human League
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Things in vague
Mind is talked about but not located.
Heart is talked about but not ascertained.
Ghosts are talked about but not captured.
God is talked about but in ‘faith' bracket.
We find it delightful to talk about
Things about which we are not certain.
14.06.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Well, Well, Well
Well, well, well, oh well,
Well, well, well, oh well.
I took my loved one out to dinner,
So we could get a bite to eat.
And though we both had been much thinner,
She looked so beautiful I could eat her.
Well, well, well, oh well,
Well, well, well, oh well.
I took my loved one to a big field,
So we could watch the english sky.
We both were nervous, feeling guilty,
And neither one of us knew just why.
Well, well, well, oh well,
Well, well, well, oh well,
Well, well, well, oh well,
Well, well, well, oh well,
Well, well, well, oh well,
Well, well, well, oh well,
Well, well, well, oh well,
Well, well, well, oh well,
Well, well, well, oh well,
Well, well, well, oh well.
Well, well, well,
Well, well, well, well, well,
Well, well, well, well, well.
Well, well.
Well, well, well, oh well,
Well, well, well, oh well.
We sat and talked of revolution,
Just like to librals in the sun.
We talked of womens liberation
And how the hell we could get things done.
Well, well, well, oh well,
Well, well, well, oh well.
I took my loved one to a big field,
So we could watch the english sky.
We both were nervous, feeling guilty,
And neither one of us knew just why.
Well, well, well, oh well,
Well, well, well, oh well,
Well, well, well, oh well,
Well, well, well, oh well,
Well, well, well, oh well,
Well, well, well, well,
Well, well, well, well,
Well,
Ho! ha-ha! thats all!
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Well Well Well
Well, well, well, oh well
Well, well, well, oh well
I took my loved one out to dinner
So we could get a bite to eat
And though we both had been much thinner
She looked so beautiful I could eat her
Well, well, well, oh well
Well, well, well, oh well
I took my loved one to a big field
So we could watch the english sky
We both were nervous feeling guilty
And neither one of us knew just why
Well, well, well, oh well
Well, well, well, oh well
(repeat several times)
We sat and talked of revolution
Just like two liberals in the sun
We talked of womens liberation
And how the hell we could get things done
Well, well, well, oh well
Well, well, well, oh well
I took my loved one to a big field
So we could catch the english sky
We both were nervous feeling guilty
And neither one of us knew just why
Well, well, well, oh well
Well, well, well, oh well
(repeat several times)
song performed by by Lennon John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To a Dead Poet
I knew not if to laugh or weep;
They sat and talked of you--
"'Twas here he sat; 'twas this he said!
'Twas that he used to do.
"Here is the book wherein he read,
The room wherein he dwelt;
And he" (they said) "was such a man,
Such things he thought and felt."
I sat and sat, I did not stir;
They talked and talked away.
I was as mute as any stone,
I had no word to say.
They talked and talked; like to a stone
My heart grew in my breast--
I, who had never seen your face
Perhaps I knew you best.
English is a mixture
English is a mixture
You can see in theatre
English is neither paternal
Nor maternal
No word no grammer
Make english finer
Uniformity english
Make life accomplished.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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My Girl
My girls mad at me
I didnt wanna see the film tonight
I found it hard to say
She thought Id had enough of her
Why cant she see
Shes lovely to me?
But I like to stay in
And watch t.v. on my own
Every now and then
My girls mad at me
Been on the telephone for an hour
We hardly said a word
I tried and tried but I could not be heard
Why cant I explain?
Why do I feel this pain?
cause everything I say
She doesnt understand
She doesnt realise
She takes it all the wrong way
My girls mad at me
We argued just the other night
I thought wed got it straight
We talked and talked until it was light
I thought wed agreed
I thought wed talked it out
Now when I try to speak
She says that I dont care
She says Im unaware
And now she says Im weak
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Talked Me Into It
I'll stand and hold onto
everything I wished for
I'm stubborn, but you talked me into it
You have the key to my mind
I melt in front of you
You turn me on without trying
You talked me into it
And I let you, at that time
I could have believed
anything you said
You ignored me before that night
but I was desperate for your attention
If I was psychic,
woulda wished for anything but you
You talked me into it
Into everything I wished for
I'm stubborn, but you talked me into it
Wondered if you knew I existed
I was enchanted with you
Never felt more forgotten
I'm stubborn, but you laughed
Said, I'll never leave you in the rain
I took your word, let you
Talk me into it
You're the only one that has
enough of me to love
and wish
You talked me into it
Banished me to the back of your mind
after all these years
Never felt more forgotten
I'm stubborn, but
I remember that night
When you talked me into it
But I stood and held onto
everything I wished for
I'm stubborn, but you talked me into it
yes, what if God does not speak english at all?
you were not born yesterday
and probably heard it before
that if your God does not speak english
then he must not be God
of course, something arrogant
hangs in the air
of this effortless superiority that
'englishers'
'english-plongplangs'
clai m, which, of course, we
always oppose and dub
as prettry dumb silly
but anyhow, yes, we are asked again
what if?
what if, this God, does not really speak English?
well, of course, he is still God
and he must not have considered the english language
that important
and i agree, even if i speak it,
i still have this language
of my soul,
albeit, in english, for you,
who does not speak my own language,
yes, of course, for you to perhaps
understand,
but i like it though, this thought
that God does not speak
the english language, lest, he may sound
so englishly, oh well,
arrogant.....
dear God
do you really...not speak english?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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An English Love
Not a rose, or a lily,
But a buttercup
Languishing in a field of gold,
In some English meadow
Waiting to give herself to him.
That boy with the impetuous smile,
And the eyes of Perseus
That hides a spirit, more delicate than any poet’s heart,
But not from her,
For she is more precious than all the songs of the world,
And I am nothing more than an apple.
Lost in an orchard of charades and folly.
She released me, with her lips,
For she is my English Love
Like the chalk streams of England, giving birth to the May fly
Every day is our love, our lifetime,
I celebrate the nightingale, and the wren,
For their song is our song,
Our home, this England, this love,
For my English love, my soul quivers,
Her glances, our hearts together
Her mouth, her soft voice, her touch,
Rivaled only by our meadow,
Where we first kissed,
Where the swallows flew their dance of love,
And where the pheasants strut in all their majesty
Where we shared our poem of Love
Our love, this love, to share a future
To cherish, our hopes, our joy, our dreams,
To cherish this Earth, this Life
For this is my dream,
And I bear my soul to this quest.
I do not care for life’s baubles, nor do I crave fame,
I am not in ore of Beauty, for it is shallow,
A dream, which will haunt the fickle
My love is for you.
Kept safe, among the fields of gold,
Safe in our English meadow,
Waiting for the sun, to seed our love once more
For she makes me more,
Than, I am meant to be
And my poem of love I give to you.
poem by Steven Cooke
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The Voice of Love
After a long solitary confinement
In deep love for someone
I heard a song
A song in the woods
Where I stood
The woods which stood in the solitude
There was nobody
Nobody except me
Nobody heard the song
Which rapped in the woods
Somewhere, but I didn't know where
The song I heard wasn't raspy
Neither soft nor melodious
The song I heard was heart-strucken'd
There was a tone
A tune where you can find
A rapt of love.
The song has given pathogen in me
Who's that guy?
Singing in love
Crying and dying in love?
I listened to the song carefully
Now I found
The lonely woods are in me
And the song I heard
was the voice
The voice of love in me.
poem by D'menz Veen
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Teeth
English Teeth, English Teeth!
Shining in the sun
A part of British heritage
Aye, each and every one.
English Teeth, Happy Teeth!
Always having fun
Clamping down on bits of fish
And sausages half done.
English Teeth! HEROES' Teeth!
Hear them click! and clack!
Let's sing a song of praise to them -
Three Cheers for the Brown Grey and Black.
poem by Spike Milligan
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The Only Voices I hear Are On The Inside
I was born not being able to hear
Born not hearing my mother tell me I'm dear
Born never listening to anyone who spoke to me
Born not enjoying music
Born without the ability to gauge sound, unable to hear the clock tick
But since the day I was born
Since before I could talk, I could scorn
There was one thing I always did hate
And that was the thing deepest inside of me,
The thing for which I cursed fate
Worse than deafness or being unable to see
Since the day I was born I heard voices
Not when loved ones talked, but voices that weren't my choice
To hear, voices that were inside my head
Voices that nobody else heard, but I didn't know if they were lying
Because my hearing has always been dead
I'd hear screeching or dying
When none was there
Those voices they'd tell me what to do and how could I deny them?
They were, they are, and they will be the only ones who care
Because they're the only one that speak to me, I can't find the sin
That I committed to be born like this, to be born broken
I've heard more conversations than any other man
And yet I've never heard man utter a word, through my whole lifespan
The only voices I hear are on the inside
And it's the greatest torment that I hide
They'll just tell me I'm crazy, well in writing
But these voices, they accept me, they sing
These voices they know because they've talked to me
These voices are the only I've ever known the
The first voices I've ever heard
Like a mother, I've never listened to a singing bird
But I've listened to a cacophonous symphony of arguing inside my head
These voices are like the woman I did not choose, but wed
I can't separate myself from them
The only time I hear anything, it's torment to condemn
Me, it's funny that I could never speak to anyone but myself
But I guess I've never, ever, been lonely... not ever.
I
Have
Never
Been
Alone
W ho could save me from myselves?
poem by David Knox
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Popular Thug
You know what I am
You know what I do well at least I thought you knew
They call me Pusha
Damn
I take you like a slap in the face
Everytime the bass is mentioned like I had bad intentions
Listen, I thought love was given
So for you I did those things you were missing
Never have to say
Please gimme borrow
As long as I got yay
And two semi autos
And connects in the jets
Like wetback Carlos
I ain't askin' you to follow
Just think about tomorrow
Please
I should have known by the way that you stared
Eyeing Passes by like you're rich but life ain't fair
But you make my record skip
Make my record skip
Make my record skip
Make my record skip
I would have never talked to you if I had known you was a popular thug
Hey, popular thug (you're damn right)
I would have never talked to you if I had known you was a popular thug
Hey, popular thug (you're damn right)
I can't help if I'm a thug and I'm popular
I think that come along with driving a shocking car
Watch the coke light up they life
The rocks with stars
Had fiends talking crippled
Cuz they locked they jaw
Aw Pusha T you think it's cool that you deal
Bout as cool as that breeze on the beach in Brazil
As long as fiends want pain
Then I'm gon' slang
When my financial change
Then I'm gon' change
I should have seen in the way you touched my hand
Shuffling your car keys
But sounded like a gentleman
But ya make my record skip
Make my record skip
Make my record skip
Make my record skip
I would have never talked to you if I had known you was a popular thug
Hey, popular thug (you're damn right)
I would have never talked to you if I had known you was a popular thug
Hey, popular thug (you're damn right)
I would have never talked to you if I had known you was a popular thug
Hey, popular thug (you're damn right)
You don't know it yet
It's the life that I live that you love
And the fact that I'm thug that had you holding techs
When you really didn't know what it was
But you did it out of love
Shit
Far from deprived
Give you all of you fetishes
Like treachervous necklaces, beget etceteras
Colors coming out make your head spin like exorcist
Spending bright futures in the hood
All them no good messages
I should have heard it in the way you said my name
While I analyzed your tone you were formulating games
But you make my record skip
Make my record skip
Make my record skip
Make my record skip
I would have never talked to you if I had known you was a popular thug
Hey, popular thug (you're damn right)
I would have never talked to you if I had known you was a popular thug
Hey, popular thug (you're damn right)
I would have never talked to you if I had known you was a popular thug
Hey, popular thug (you're damn right)
I would have never talked to you if I had known you was a popular thug
Hey, popular thug (you're damn right)
Hey, popular thug
song performed by by Kelis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Out Of The Fulness Of The Heart The Mouth Speaketh
In answer to those who have said that English Poets
give no personal love to their country.
ENGLAND, my country, austere in the clamorous council of nations,
Set in the seat of the mighty, wielding the sword of the strong,
Have we but sung of your glory, firm in eternal foundations?
Are not your woods and your meadows the core of our heart and our song?
O dear fields of my country, grass growing green, glowing golden,
Green in the patience of winter, gold in the pageant of spring,
Oaks and young larches awaking, wind-flowers and violets blowing,
What, if God sets us to singing, what save you shall we sing?
Who but our England is fair through the veil of her poets' praises,
What but the pastoral face, the fruitful, beautiful breast?
Are not your poets' meadows starred with the English daisies?
Were not the wings of their song-birds fledged in an English nest?
Songs of the leaves in the sunlight, songs of the fern-brake in shadow,
Songs of the world of the woods and songs of the marsh and the mere,
Are they not English woods, dear English marshland and meadow?
Have not your poets loved you? England, are you not dear?
Shoulders of upland brown laid dark to the sunset's bosom,
Living amber of wheat, and copper of new-ploughed loam,
Downs where the white sheep wander, little gardens in blossom,
Roads that wind through the twilight up to the lights of home.
Lanes that are white with hawthorn, dykes where the sedges shiver,
Hollows where caged winds slumber, moorlands where winds wake free,
Sowing and reaping and gleaning, spring and torrent and river,
Are they not more, by worlds, than the whole of the world can be?
Is there a corner of land, a furze-fringed rag of a by-way,
Coign of your foam-white cliffs or swirl of your grass-green waves,
Leaf of your peaceful copse, or dust of your strenuous highway,
But in our hearts is sacred, dear as our cradles, our graves?
Is not each bough in your orchards, each cloud in the skies above you,
Is not each byre or homestead, furrow or farm or fold,
Dear as the last dear drops of the blood in the hearts that love you,
Filling those hearts till the love is more than the heart can hold?
Therefore the song breaks forth from the depths of the hidden fountain
Singing your least frail flower, your raiment of seas and skies,
Singing your pasture and cornfield, fen and valley and mountain,
England, desire of my heart, England, delight of mine eyes!
Take my song too, my country: many a son and debtor
Pays you in praise and homage out of your gifts' full store;
Life of my life, my England, many will praise you better,
None, by the God that made you, ever can love you more!
poem by Edith Nesbit
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To His Lady
(Who asked a Song in Spring)
WHY do you bid your poet sing,
Who has no mind to song--
Who only wants to see the Spring,
Long sought and tarrying long?
The shivering, dreary winter through
My song enshrined my vow;
If then my songs were sweet to you,
Let me be silent now!
Have I not duly sung, my dear,
Your goodness and your grace?
Now that your rival, Spring, is here,
O let me see her face!
The hedge is white with buds of May,
The fields are green with Spring,
Oh, give your bard a holiday:
He does not want to sing!
He wants to listen; all alone,
He wants to steal away
To hear the ring-doves' tender tone,
And what the thrushes say.
He wants to hear what can't be heard
When you and love are near--
The sweet Spring's soft and secret word;
Oh, let him go, my dear!
poem by Edith Nesbit
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The Eagle wasn't always the Eagle. The Eagle, before he became the Eagle, was Yucatangee, the Talker. Yucatangee talked and talked. It talked so much it heard only itself. Not the river, not the wind, not even the Wolf. The Raven came and said The Wolf is hungry. If you stop talking, you'll hear him. The wind too. And when you hear the wind, you'll fly. So he stopped talking. And became its nature, the Eagle. The Eagle soared, and its flight said all it needed to say.
quote by Robin Green
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lets Talk About Us
We talked about the birdies
That fly up in the trees
We talked about the moon
And the stars we couldnt see
But you keep on pretending
You dont know whats wrong with me
Come on, lets talk, about us
We talked about the good times
That made us laugh and sigh
We talked about the bad times
That brought tears to our eyes
Now, I think its about time
For you to realize
Come on, lets talk, about us
(hey)
Dear, I swear Ill love you, til the very end
But I dont plan on stickin around
If its just to be your friend
Weve talked, an talked, an talked, an talked
But theres been nothin said
The things that youve been talkin about
Just dont stick to my head
Sometimes I think, little girl
That your heart is filled with lead
Come on, lets talk, about us
Well, dear I swear Ill love you
Oh, til the very end
Well, I dont plan on stickin around
If its just to be your friend
Weve talked, an talked, an talked, an talked
And theres been nothin said
The thing that youve been talkin about
Just dont stick to my head
My darlin little girl
I think that your heart is made of lead
Come on, lets talk, about us
Come on, lets talk, about us
Well, well, well, well, well
Come on, lets talk, about us
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Praise Of England
From tangled brake and trellised bower
Bring every bud that blows,
But never will you find the flower
To match an English rose.
It blooms with more than city grace,
Though rustic and apart;
It has a smile upon its face,
And a dewdrop in its heart.
Though wide the goodly world around
Your fancy may have strayed,
Where was the woman ever found
To match an English maid?
At work she smiles, through play she sings,
She doubts not nor denies;
She'll cling to you as woodbine clings,
And love you till she dies.
If you would put it to the proof,
Then round the zodiac roam;
But never will you find the roof
To match an English home.
You hear the sound of children's feet
Still pattering on the stair:
'Tis made by loving labour sweet,
And sanctified by prayer.
Go traverse tracts sublime or sweet,
Snow-peak or scorched ravine,
But where will you the landscape meet
To match an English scene?
The hamlet hallowed by its spire,
The wildwood fresh with flowers,
Garden and croft and thorp and byre
Gleaming through silvery showers.
Across the wave, along the wind,
Flutter and plough your way,
But where will you a Sceptre find
To match the English Sway?
Its conscience holds the world in awe
With blessing or with ban;
Its Freedom guards the Reign of Law,
And majesty of Man!
poem by Alfred Austin
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I Heard Her Song
I’ve often been distracted
By the lights and sounds
Of many a pretty young thing
Sometimes I’ll offer my heart
Others just watch from a distance
The end result to this date
Remains a succession of losses
Opportunity and feelings wasted
I’ve seen those thoughts and feelings
Change over a thousand times
New love begin after the old has died
Or not died merely push aside
Left on the back burner of my life
Now another change has come
A new passion for a familiar face
We have always had a comfortable distance
Talked on occasion for a minute
Now I’m looking upon her differently
I’ve heard her song, who she is
A brilliant and beautiful soul
With a kind naivety I admire
She may well damn me
But I heard her song and my heart sang
poem by Matthew Holloway
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