Profess
A strange language!
To the spot,
With your works,
Prolix,
With your muse,
Profess,
Prolong,
And like a light in darkness!
At the X-Ray Room,
Like Miss Undercover! !
With the oldest person in your land;
But, this road leads to the Golden Gate.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Related quotes
In the House of Suddhoo
A stone's throw out on either hand
From that well-ordered road we tread,
And all the world is wild and strange;
Churel and ghoul and Djinn and sprite
Shall bear us company to-night,
For we have reached the Oldest Land
Wherein the powers of Darkness range.
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Candlelight
candlelight, lane, lain, gain, cane, ten, net, dell, cell, die;
To push for your love and to love you,
Because, you are ready always.
Candlelight, candle, light, can, and, an, lad, ceil, end, dig;
With words of love and works of joy! !
But, you are all that i need.
Candlelight, nail, leg, the, hit, let, dial, lit, cite, hen, age;
And like your nakedness in your bedroom!
But, switch on the lights when i am in.
Candlelight, hat, he, had, hand, lead, led, clad, cad, gall, at;
With the peace of my mind resting in your room,
But joy is it when you have love! !
Candlelight, delight, head, cage, clean, get, heal, deal, hell;
And like your sweet muse on your lovely bed!
But, i will be with you always my love.
Candlelight, lent, land, lie, laid, aid, aide, lied, neat, all;
And peacefully noted by the works of your love,
But let this joy always bring us peace.
Candlelight, eat, ate, tea, tag, hag, caln, cat, gin, tin, hint;
I need love and i need the peace of my mind from you,
For your love to me is very beautiful.
Candlelight, tan, giant, ant, den, dean, lean, tail, teal, hale;
With the muse of your romance in the land of your birth!
But, let me be the one always on your side.
Candlelight, ale, gate, date, hate, night, eight, Cain, tell, tall;
And like the words of love spoken in your lovely room,
But, i will be there to satisfy you always!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Mr. And Mrs. James Akpan II
Of your spiritual inner-self,
Of my spiritual inner-self,
But, i am made among the people of this earth!
And, wisdom is my first priority;
However, Mrs. Akpan will still remember her words towards me on the day of the contract.
This muse of life is now being elevated with the peace of the mind,
These works of joy are now being seen among you all!
With the indications of love from my mind to influence you;
And like the road leading to the house of the royal elephant,
But, i am what i am today with the sweet muse of life.
Wisdom leads to great success! !
back in the days, and to remember this journey on the very hard road;
But, with the muse of my roots in mind to deliver my works,
However, i am what i am today with the sweet muse of life.
Peace and joy to the Akpan family whom i met some years ago in Lagos (Nigeria) !
For, my heart will always bring out peace and joy to all with my works;
And my mouth shall always speak out wisdom to teach many,
However, i am what i am today with much experiences in life.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Ahinful
In the thick forest of my own village,
With the light from the moon to guide us on;
But, this valley is 12 feet wide! !
And like the muse of love in the land of many roses.
Stand, brand, and, strand, band, grand, land, Ireland;
And like the muse of love around a candle stand,
But this moon gives us light in the dark around this village.
Words!
Being with the muse of kindness;
Love!
Being with a child in this village;
Works!
Labouring in pain;
But near at hand to respect your muse! !
For, the light of the moon guides us on in this village.
Plan and scheme,
Hope and dreams,
Works and acts,
And, to secure a place! !
But, Ahinful my lover is still in the thick forest.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Papa
Papa, this is your son writing to you from a very strange land;
There is air on this land but with the floating minds that muses,
And of the power of love and the power of the muse that it brings.
I have been able to live here for many years and,
I have taken your words and i am now myself over here.
This is a very strange land with no air,
But your words had taken me in that far;
For up and close and personal is the muse that the land shares.
I am living on this strange land with my lover,
But my heart will grow on to fulfil my dreams;
Papa, it is all coming back to you now!
For your words are my weapons over here to muse up with others.
The immortality of the mortals seems far from this dream,
And i will always do my best to get you the news from here always;
But if the walls could talk, they could have told you much already.
I will give up on this dream and,
Living in this strange land will be my weapon ahead;
For, i left home to be able to satisfy you people as well.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Forgotten Song
It’s not the road that matters,
But the path that leads you on.
You find your way, through cloud and stone,
To some forgotten song.
It’s not the path that leads you,
But your heart that shows you true.
And in the end, the only thing
That matters here is you.
It’s time to put an end to this,
One overdue by far.
A person is a person and
You’re only what you are.
A person can be only that,
You’re only what you are.
It’s not your head that matters,
But you heart that leads the way.
Perfection is an aimless goal,
And endless game we play.
It’s not your heart that leads you,
For your feet move where they will.
A body once in motion then
Can nevermore be still.
It’s time to put an end to this,
One overdue by far.
A person is a person and
You’re only what you are.
A person can be only that,
You’re only what you are.
But there is never just one way,
For life has many roads.
And who can ever find the way,
For no one really knows?
It’s not the road that matters,
Nor the path that leads you on.
It’s neither heart nor head nor feet
That finds that hidden song.
It’s been inside you all this time,
A ballad tried and true.
The answer comes to those who live:
What matters here is you.
It’s time to put an end to this,
One overdue by far.
A person is a person and
You’re only what you are.
A person can be only that,
You’re only what you are.
poem by Allison Rose
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September 1961
This is the year the old ones,
the old great ones
leave us alone on the road.
The road leads to the sea.
We have the words in our pockets,
obscure directions. The old ones
have taken away the light of their presence,
we see it moving away over a hill
off to one side.
They are not dying,
they are withdrawn
into a painful privacy
learning to live without words.
E. P. "It looks like dying"-Williams: "I can't
describe to you what has been
happening to me"-
H. D. "unable to speak."
The darkness
twists itself in the wind, the stars
are small, the horizon
ringed with confused urban light-haze.
They have told us
the road leads to the sea,
and given
the language into our hands.
We hear
our footsteps each time a truck
has dazzled past us and gone
leaving us new silence.
Ine can't reach
the sea on this endless
road to the sea unless
one turns aside at the end, it seems,
follows
the owl that silently glides above it
aslant, back and forth,
and away into deep woods.
But for usthe road
unfurls itself, we count the
words in our pockets, we wonder
how it will be without them, we don't
stop walking, we know
there is far to go, sometimes
we think the night wind carries
a smell of the sea...
poem by Denise Levertov
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Object
Cole, vole, whole, pole, mole, bole, dole, sole, hole;
Between the safety net of love!
But strong enough to keep you awake.
Kate, date, late, mate, hate, bate, gate, fate, pate, rate, sate;
Down in down there to respect your muse!
But, it is like the works of act in the land of your muse.
Abject,
Unconditional,
Object,
Precious,
Endure,
Abound,
Honeyed!
But stronger enough to keep you awake always;
For the object up there in your room is all about your love.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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A Poem For Prolix
Tediously wordy.
the Latin prolixus
(extended, poured) ,
from liquere (to flow) ,
the source of words such as liquid,
liquor,
licorice.
Now do you see the connection - why consuming lots of Tanduay 65
make the teachers of Cancainap
prolix?
Let me try using the word,
No one has ever called her prolix.
At a seminar sponsored by the DECS,
Miss Manolita mumbled a few introductory words
and then sat in silence,
eyebrows arched,
arms folded,
for the remaining two loveless days.
She misses someone
No, not the prolix poet
But the sylvan lover.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Ah Goo Tongue
The queerest languages known to man,
Sanscrit, Hebrew, Hindoostan,
Are all translated and made as free
And comprehensive as A B C.
Yet the oldest language talked or sung,
The strange mysterious Ah Goo tongue,
The royal language of Babyland
No man living can understand.
Every soul in the world to-day
Was one time anchored in Babyland Bay,
And quarantined there for a year or more
Before he even could step on shore.
And everybody in Babyland Bay
Talks the Ah Goo tongue, so people say,
But once on land-why not a word
Do they understand of it when 'tis heard.
For the fairy rulers of Babyland
Who guard the kingdom on every hand,
Have willed that no one shall keep the key
Who crosses into the Grown-up Sea.
So the sweet court language has never been made
A common parlance of strife or trade,
But is kept in the kingdom where natives come
Versed in the language of Babydom.
They are all of them royal and that is how
The Grown-up people all kneel and bow,
When they hear that language talked or sung-
The strange mysterious Ah Goo tongue.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Phase Three
You came along to me like a timber in the calm forest,
But the same light that shines on you is like one seen shead of me! !
But my birth is always noted to my relatives,
And like a lovely song in the land of your muse.
Today you are what you are and, i am who i am!
But seeing you off last night in the dark was like the works of joy! !
For, in the land of plenty, i will always sing you a song;
And like the joy of your muse being shared by many.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Creative Mind!
Creative mind!
In the land of the heart of your muse to satisfy me;
But, what about those in the snow?
Creative mind!
Out of love in the land of your muse;
But, are you ready to learn? ! !
For, the muse of this love is all about us.
Creative mind!
Justified by the muse of your love;
And like your works as seen by all,
But, try to be yourself always.
Creative mind!
Love it and enjoy it and play with it;
For, the muse of my love is very fast and very easy! !
And like the joy around you in the land of peace,
But, try to understand my sweet muse of love always.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The road to here and there
`
the road to nowhere
must begin somewhere
the road to anywhere
always begins everywhere
if in doubt of direction
find your spot elsewhere
then follow your feet
where your nose leads you
the road to dinner wear
ends in frozen tupperware
the road to Delaware
travels here and there
`
poem by Frederick Kesner
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Little Miss Queen Of Darkness
Well I met her accidentally,
In a little discotheque.
And she acted oh so friendly
To every fella that she met.
And her hair was hanging down,
Like a bright and silver machine[? ].
Little miss queen of darkness
Dancing night and day.
Little miss queen of darkness
Dancing, dancing on.
Although she looked so happy,
There was sadness in her eyes.
And her curly false eyelashes
Werent much of a disguise.
And her bright and golden hair,
Was not all that it might seem.
Little miss queen of darkness
Dances sadly on.
Yes little miss queen of darkness
Dancing, dancing on.
There was something missing
From her carefree little life,
And shell never understand you
When youre kissing her good night.
cause the only boy she had
Went and coolly stepped aside.
And little miss queen of darkness
Might as well have died.
Little miss queen of darkness
Dancing, dancing on.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Golden--of the selkirks
A trail upwinds from Golden;
It leads to a land God only knows,
To the land of eternal frozen snows,
That trail unknown and olden.
And they tell a tale that is strange and wild--
Of a lovely and lonely mountain child
That went up the trail from Golden.
A child in the sweet of her womanhood,
Beautiful, tender, grave and good
As the saints in time long olden.
And the days count not, nor the weeks avail;
For the child that went up the mountain trail
Came never again to Golden.
And the watchers wept in the midnight gloom,
Where the canyons yawn and the Selkirks loom,
For the love that they knew of olden.
And April dawned, with its suns aflame,
And the eagles wheeled and the vultures came
And poised o'er the town of Golden.
God of the white eternal peaks,
Guard the dead while the vulture seeks!--
God of the days so olden.
For only God in His greatness knows
Where the mountain holly above her grows,
On the trail that leads from Golden.
poem by Emily Pauline Johnson
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The Dreaming
bang! goes another kanga
On the bonnet of the van.
See the light ram through the gaps in the land.
Many an aborigines mistaken for a tree
til you near him on the motorway
And the tree begin to breathe.
See the light ram through the gaps in the land.
(ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha)
Coming in with the golden light
In the morning.
Coming in with the golden light
Is the new man.
Coming in with the golden light
Is my dented van.
Woomera.
Dree-ee-ee-ee-ee-
A-a-a-a-a-
M-m-m-m-m-
Ti-ti-ti-ti-ti-
I-i-i-i-i-
Me-me-me-me-me,
Dree-ee-ee-ee-ee-
Woomera.
A-a-a-a-a-
M-m-m-m-m-
Ti-ti-ti-ti-ti-
I-i-i-i-i-
Me-me-me-me-me.
Dree-ee-ee-ee-ee-
A-a-a-a-a-
M-m-m-m-m-
Ti-ti-ti-ti-ti-
The civilised keep alive
The territorial war.
See the light ram through the gaps in the land.
Erase the race that claim the place
And say we dig for ore,
Or dangle devils in a bottle
And push them from the pull of the bush.
See the light ram through the gaps in the land.
You find them in the road.
See the light bounce off the rocks to the sand.
In the road.
Coming in with the golden light
In the morning.
Coming in with the golden light
With no warning.
Coming in with the golden light
We bring in the rigging.
Dig, dig, dig, dig away.
Dree-ee-ee-ee-ee-
A-a-a-a-a-
M-m-m-m-m-
Ti-ti-ti-ti-ti-
I-i-i-i-i-
Me-me-me-me-me,
Dree-ee-ee-ee-ee-
Woomera.
A-a-a-a-a-
M-m-m-m-m-
Ti-ti-ti-ti-ti-
I-i-i-i-i-
Me-me-me,
Dree-ee-ee-ee-ee-
A-a-a-a-a-
M-m-m-m-m-
Woomera.
Ti-ti-ti-ti-ti-
I-i-i-i-i-
Me-me-me-me-me,
Dree-ee-ee-ee-ee-
A-a-a-a-a-
M-m-m-m-m-
Ti-ti-ti-ti-ti-
I-i-i-i-i-
Woomera.
Me-me-me-me-me.
Ma-ma-many an aborigines mistaken for a tree
(la, la, oo-ooh!)
See the light ram through the gaps in the land.
You near him on the motorway
And the tree begin to breathe.
Erase the race that claim the place
And say we dig for ore.
See the light ram through the gaps in the land.
Dangle devils in a bottle
And push them from the pull of the bush.
See the sun set in the hand of the man.
Bang! goes another kanga
On the bonnet of the van.
See the light bounce off the rocks to the sand.
You find them in the road.
See the light ram through the gaps in the land.
In the road.
See the light.
(push em from the)
Pull of the bush.
See the light bounce off the rocks to the sand.
(push em from the)
Pull of the bush.
See the sun set in the hand of the man.
(oh, re mikayina!)
song performed by by Kate Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To The Muse: An Old-Fashioned Poem3
But, oftentimes, beneath your tree,
at morning's blush or at the eve's
descent, your voice among the leaves
will flood my ears with poetry
And oftentimes will you suspend
in fingers dim a golden bowl
that holds the image of a soul
perfected at the journey's end.
Powerful Muse of living fame
who often leads us to the grove
in praise of wine, in praise of love
I bear my sorrows in your name.
Sip this blessing from my lips
Mother, dragon, husbandwife,
you, my muse, as dear as life:
for I am honored with your kiss.
And gladly bear from its imprint
a seething wound, a vivid brand
through which strange, quivering chords are sent
and secrets of the holy land!
poem by Morgan Michaels
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Ocean Of Lights
Power box and power love,
With Ocean of Lights to greet your muse;
But your party-fun-bag is in your room,
And i saw your fire works last light.
Fantasy, love and fire! !
With the high-speed act of your love to expose your muse;
But your party-fun-bag is still in your lovely room
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Suzuki
Works of love and works of peace,
With the beauty of your land to praise your name;
For you are Suzuki from the land of many flowers!
And like the joy of your muse that muses,
But i will always wait to see your smiling face.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Annabel
It will surely rise up!
Because, i am Annabel in the land of your muse;
And like the works of art and the beauty of your love,
For, the colour of the sea is like the muse of your town.
I know your mind and,
You are unable to hide this muse from me! !
For, it will always rise up to satisfy me;
And like the joy of success!
But, try to understand my sweet muse around you always.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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