Aaron Stark
Withal a meagre man was Aaron Stark, --
Cursed and unkempt, shrewd, shrivelled, and morose.
A miser was he, with a miser's nose,
And eyes like little dollars in the dark.
His thin, pinched mouth was nothing but a mark;
And when he spoke there came like sullen blows
Through scattered fangs a few snarled words and close,
As if a cur were chary of its bark.
Glad for the murmur of his hard renown,
Year after year he shambled through the town, --
A loveless exile moving with a staff;
And oftentimes there crept into his ears
A sound of alien pity, touched with tears, --
And then (and only then) did Aaron laugh.
poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
The Old Miser and his 3rd Wife
1
The Old Miser
my husband is dying
and he makes me promise
I must put all his money in his coffin
when he dies
“O my legal third wife
the only one surviving -
you must put all my money
secretly in my coffin”
Sure thing, sure thing
you Old Miser!
You made me suffer all my life
and now in your death
you want to bring away all the money
Sure thing, sure thing
you Old Miser!
2
Now, he’s dead
and I’ve arranged for his funeral
and while everyone’s busy
with all these preparations
I dutifully take all his money
from the hiding place
which he whispered to me
with his last breath
and he bit my ear and he snarled:
“Put all my money
in my coffin”
Sure thing, sure thing
you Old Miser!
You made me suffer all my life
and now in your death
you want to bring all the money away
Sure thing, sure thing
you Old Miser!
3
So I take all his money
and bring it to the bank
and deposit it in my name
and make a cheque out for 10 million
and put the cheque below his head
Sure thing, sure thing
you Old Miser!
You made me suffer all my life
and now in your death
you can take all the money away
Sure thing, sure thing
you Old Miser!
poem by Raj Arumugam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Want An Alien For Christmas
This year for christmas
Theres something Id really like
So if youre up there somewhere santa
Please dont bring me another bike
I dont need any ugly sweaters
And I dont play much basketball
But theres something kinda special
That I want most of all...
I want an alien for christmas
Bring me an alien this year
I want a little green guy
About three feet high
With seventeen eyes
Who knows how to fly
I want an alien for christmas this year
He can live in the bath tub
So dont worry about a thing
And Ill take him out for walks
When it gets nicer in the spring
Ill always keep him company
Hell never be alone
And we can hang around the house all day
And watch the twilight zone
I want an alien for christmas
Bring me an alien this year
I want a little green guy
About three feet high
With seventeen eyes
Who knows how to fly
I want an alien for christmas this year
I want an alien for christmas
Bring me an alien this year
I want a little green guy
About three feet high
With seventeen eyes
Who knows how to fly
I want an alien for christmas this year
I want an alien for christmas this year
song performed by by Fountains Of Wayne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
For Years/ A Miser Of Every Minute
FOR YEARS/ A MISER OF EVERY MINUTE
For years
A miser of every minute
For my work.
And now near old age
I understand
All that time given to works
Never to be read,
And so
A seeming tranquility.
If all my time wasted
Why be a miser
Any longer?
And yet,
What have I done?
Can I somehow still
Do something?
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Spring And The Fall
In the spring of the year, in the spring of the year,
I walked the road beside my dear.
The trees were black where the bark was wet.
I see them yet, in the spring of the year.
He broke me a bough of the blossoming peach
That was out of the way and hard to reach.
In the fall of the year, in the fall of the year,
I walked the road beside my dear.
The rooks went up with a raucous trill.
I hear them still, in the fall of the year.
He laughed at all I dared to praise,
And broke my heart, in little ways.
Year be springing or year be falling,
The bark will drip and the birds be calling.
There's much that's fine to see and hear
In the spring of a year, in the fall of a year.
'Tis not love's going hurt my days.
But that it went in little ways.
poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Oh, I wish I were a miser; being a miser must be so occupying.
quote by Gertrude Stein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Death of the Old Year
Full knee-deep lies the winter snow,
And the winter winds are wearily sighing:
Toll ye the church bell sad and slow,
And tread softly and speak low,
For the old year lies a-dying.
Old year you must not die;
You came to us so readily,
You lived with us so steadily,
Old year you shall not die.
He lieth still: he doth not move:
He will not see the dawn of day.
He hath no other life above.
He gave me a friend and a true truelove
And the New-year will take 'em away.
Old year you must not go;
So long you have been with us,
Such joy as you have seen with us,
Old year, you shall not go.
He froth'd his bumpers to the brim;
A jollier year we shall not see.
But tho' his eyes are waxing dim,
And tho' his foes speak ill of him,
He was a friend to me.
Old year, you shall not die;
We did so laugh and cry with you,
I've half a mind to die with you,
Old year, if you must die.
He was full of joke and jest,
But all his merry quips are o'er.
To see him die across the waste
His son and heir doth ride post-haste,
But he'll be dead before.
Every one for his own.
The night is starry and cold, my friend,
And the New-year blithe and bold, my friend,
Comes up to take his own.
How hard he breathes! over the snow
I heard just now the crowing cock.
The shadows flicker to and fro:
The cricket chirps: the light burns low:
'Tis nearly twelve o'clock.
Shake hands, before you die.
Old year, we'll dearly rue for you:
What is it we can do for you?
Speak out before you die.
His face is growing sharp and thin.
Alack! our friend is gone,
Close up his eyes: tie up his chin:
Step from the corpse, and let him in
That standeth there alone,
And waiteth at the door.
There's a new foot on the floor, my friend,
And a new face at the door, my friend,
A new face at the door.
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Hymn 145
Christ and Aaron.
Heb. 7; 9.
Jesus, in thee our eyes behold
A thousand glories more,
Than the rich gems and polished gold
The sons of Aaron wore.
They first their own burnt-offerings brought,
To purge themselves from sin;
Thy life was pure without a spot,
And all thy nature clean.
[Fresh blood as constant as the day
Was on their altar spilt;
But thy one offering takes away
For ever all our guilt.]
[Their priesthood ran through several hands,
For mortal was their race;
Thy never-changing office stands
Eternal as thy days.]
[Once in the circuit of a year,
With blood, but not his own,
Aaron within the veil appears
Before the golden throne:
But Christ, by his own powerful blood,
Ascends above the skies,
And in the presence of our God
Shows his own sacrifice.]
Jesus, the King of glory, reigns
On Zion's heav'nly hill;
Looks like a lamb that has been slain,
And wears his priesthood still.
He ever lives to intercede
Before his Father's face:
Give him, my soul, thy cause to plead,
Nor doubt the Father's grace.
poem by Isaac Watts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I'm an actor in between jobs right now, so I kind of live the life of a 7-year old.
The Last Leaf
I saw him once before,
As he passed by the door,
And again
The pavement stones resound,
As he totters o'er the ground
With his cane.
They say that in his prime,
Ere the pruning-knife of Time
Cut him down,
Not a better man was found
By the Crier on his round
Through the town.
But now he walks the streets,
And he looks at all he meets
Sad and wan,
And he shakes his feeble head,
That it seems as if he said,
"They are gone!"
The mossy marbles rest
On the lips that he has prest
In their bloom,
And the names he loved to hear
Have been carved for many a year
On the tomb.
My grandmamma has said--
Poor old lady, she is dead
Long ago--
That he had a Roman nose,
And his cheek was like a rose
In the snow;
But now his nose is thin,
And it rests upon his chin
Like a staff,
And a crook is in his back,
And a melancholy crack
In his laugh.
I know it is a sin
For me to sit and grin
At him here;
But the old three-cornered hat,
And the breeches, and all that,
Are so queer!
And if I should live to be
The last leaf upon the tree
In the spring,
Let them smile, as I do now,
At the old forsaken bough
Where I cling.
poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sad Peter Pan
Its the plan of most
To discover that magnificent ghost
When did I get perverted
And my innocent eyes diverted from the view so grand
Imbued with distractions
Im greedy like senior babbitt
Im just chasing that electric rabbit
Im a reluctant rebel
I just want to be aaron neville
With a crown on my head
And my denim shirt all dark with sweat
Im just pushing the paint around
On advice from your lying mouth
You touched me and then you ran
And left a sad peter pan
All alone and awkward
But a transformation, I swear it will occur
song performed by by Smashing Pumpkins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
My eyes are too big, my nose is too flat, my ears stick out, my mouth is too big and my face is too small... my body is thin as a clarinet and my ankles are so skinny that I wear two pairs of bobby socks because I don't want people to see how thin they are.
quote by Goldie Hawn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Modern Man
Dark, dark, dark
And there is a dog’s bark
A wild heinous cry
A red mark on the sky
With unfathomable fear
I draw myself near
And saw a corpse decaying
From its mouth, I heard it saying
In a greedy murmuring sound
'Dollar, penny and pound'
poem by Naeem Jakhar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Faithful Witness
To the firstborn of Yahseph,
Of all that is created;
To the secondborn of Yahseph,
Do set set your mind on Mount Zion;
For His name is His glory and,
Of the economic well-being.
Of the year of the rat,
Of the year of the dog,
Of the year of the cow,
Of the year of the bull,
Of the year of the sheep,
Of the year of the dragon,
Of the year of the snake,
Of the year of the pig,
Of the year of the goat,
Of the year of the lizard,
Of the year of the crocodile,
Of the year of the elephant,
Of the year of the scorpion,
Of the year of the turtle,
Of the year of the fish,
Of the year of the earth,
Of the year of the wind,
Of the year of the fire,
Of the year of the water,
And of the year of the bush!
Like the firstborns of slaves.
The hips of romance,
The faithful witness will not lie;
The same day,
The same night,
Of the love shared at where no oxen are;
And the crib was very clean.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Insomnia
Now you hear what the house has to say.
Pipes clanking, water running in the dark,
the mortgaged walls shifting in discomfort,
and voices mounting in an endless drone
of small complaints like the sounds of a family
that year by year you've learned how to ignore.
But now you must listen to the things you own,
all that you've worked for these past years,
the murmur of property, of things in disrepair,
the moving parts about to come undone,
and twisting in the sheets remember all
the faces you could not bring yourself to love.
How many voices have escaped you until now,
the venting furnace, the floorboards underfoot,
the steady accusations of the clock
numbering the minutes no one will mark.
The terrible clarity this moment brings,
the useless insight, the unbroken dark.
poem by Dana Gioia
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Laugh song
(it's just a silly song, please sing with your own melody)
Drunken man: The bottle is empty
I’m still thirsty
What can we do right now?
Crowd: Let’s steal some wine!
Bar owner: It’s the time up now!
You must pay and go
Crowd: Why is she so cruel?
We’re just having fun
Bar owner: The wind goes strong
I’m afraid storm comes
What can I do old man
With drunken men and fool?
Crowd: Our friends with us
You are warm and nice
Bar owner: No more drink tonight
Go home, goodnight!
Servant boy: The rain goes heavy
The bridge is down!
Crowd: Lord has mercy
We can’t go right now!
Crowd: The road is dark
Hard storm around
What can we do right now?
Bar owner: Sit and wait sad clown!
Man: Thunder sparks wild
Do we have some bone?
The dog still barks
Crowd: Bark, bark, bark, bark, bark
Drunken man: The bone is gone
Tomorrow we’ll mourn
What can we do right now?
Crowd: What can we do right now?
Man: No feet dance here
No music I hear
Crowd: Let’s ask our dear!
She can cheer we here
Man: The fiddle’s asleep
Her cords are curling
Crowd: Let’s just sing a song!
La, la, la, la, la
Drunken man: Your song is bad
My ears are ache
Crowd: It’s the wine not song
Your sense goes wrong
Servant boy: The rain still falls
It’s not safe to home
Crowd: We own our fall
It’s not safe from fight
Drunken man: The bottles mad and fly
Too pity they’re empty
Bar owner: Play set in my rest
You’ll be kicked and wet!
Man: Let’s close to the fire
Till words are over
Crowd: Tell tales and stories
Till the world’s over
Crowd: Only wise can say
We crazy laugh and cry
In the middle of flood
The last laugh will shout!
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The miser does not own the gold, it is the gold that owns the miser.
While the miser is merely a capitalist gone mad, the capitalist is a rational miser.
A Laugh And Smile
The other day I spoke to someone
on Microsoft Messenger.
During our conversation,
I said something that made them laugh.
It was nice to see a laugh light up their face.
When I said it was good to see them laugh and smile
they replied with a statement
that really struck home with me.
They said whenever they are having a bad day
and they come online to speak to me.
For a little while, their bad day
vanishes into a laughter and smile.
It is a nice feeling inside that you can make
at least one-person laugh and smile,
putting a little sunshine into someone’s bleak day.
Just imagine what would happen
if we did that to one another each and everyday.
We would have a world of laughter
and the tears would flow with joy instead of sadness.
Therefore, as we move forward through each New Year,
let us all try to make someone
for a little while laugh and smile.
1 January 2009
May everyone who reads this think of what I said. Have a happy and prosperous New Year to each and everyone.
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Happy New Year 5766
Happy New Year tsunami
Happy New Year hurricanes
Happy New Year earthquakes
Happy New Year floods
Happy New Year fires
Happy New Year whining tree-saws
Happy New Year broken oven
Happy New Year broken refridgerator
Happy New Year broken promises
Happy New Year working computer
Happy New Year screeching ears
Happy New Year wet windows parched garden
Happy New Year dripping tap
drip
drip
drip
Drip.
poem by Linda Hepner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Jane and You and the Gatekeeper
You sat with Jane
on the grass
in the field
beneath the Downs
she was looking
at the sky
and you
were watching her
her profile
her hair pulled back
in a ponytail
her eyes bright
as new coins
her pale blue dress
and white ankle socks
and brown sandals
she followed a butterfly
fluttering by
a Gatekeeper
she said
where?
you said
there that butterfly
it's called a Gatekeeper
you turned to watch
the butterfly
she had pointed to
as it fluttered off
down the field
stopping now and then
to land on flowers
I love butterflies
she said
how do you know
all their names?
you asked
I read Daddy's books
he has a number of books
on butterflies and moths
she said
she lay back
on the grass
and stared
at the sky
you lay down
beside her
your hands
behind your head
she smelt of lavender
you noticed
you breathed it in
let it fill within you
don't you read books?
she asked
turning to look at you
taking in your white shirt
and blue jeans
I'm reading a book on birds
you said
I bought it in town
the other week
that's a start
she said smiling
I guess so
you said
I didn't realize
there were so many kinds
she studied you
as you spoke
resting her head
on her hand
maybe we can go looking
for nests next year
when they begin
to nest again
she said
ok
you said
not to touch though
she said
just to look
birds don't like
their nests disturbed
in London
we only have sparrows
and pigeons
you said
how boring
she said
you watched
her lips moving
as she spoke
her eyes on you
studying you
I'm glad you're here
you said
glad to be here
she replied
she touched her fingers
to her lips
and blew you a kiss
and you did likewise
seeing a new world
in her deep dark eyes.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!