Our little Kinsmen—after Rain
885
Our little Kinsmen—after Rain
In plenty may be seen,
A Pink and Pulpy multitude
The tepid Ground upon.
A needless life, it seemed to me
Until a little Bird
As to a Hospitality
Advanced and breakfasted.
As I of He, so God of Me
I pondered, may have judged,
And left the little Angle Worm
With Modesties enlarged.
poem by Emily Dickinson
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Related quotes
Pride breakfasted with plenty, dined with poverty, and supped with infamy.
quote by Benjamin Franklin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Needless to Say...
Needless to say...
A way of life we wished conveyed,
Is outdated...
As it should be portrayed.
To slay our fellowman,
To get an upper hand...
Does not sit well,
With those 'deities' in command.
And until we understand that...
We will always find ourselves lost in time.
Trapped.
And where we are now isn't about that at all!
Needless to say...
If we continue to disobey,
We will receive...
A devastation we leave!
And it will not be left as life to live!
Without a thing needed then left to say.
Or a way to forgive our transgressions,
None left can say...
There is another day,
They can be handed to another to give!
Needlessly.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Pretty Pink Rose
Shes just been to russia and theyre dying their faces
Theyre dying over there
A pretty pink rose
That rnr lady takes a space-ship ride shes out of this world
A pretty pink rose
And were living for you my love, were living for you
And were dying for you my love
Pretty pink rose
She tore down paris on the tall of thom paine
But the left wings broken the right insane
A pretty pink rose
Have a nice day, its a killer, turn a cheek
Its a christian code
A pretty pink rose
And were living for you my love, were living for you
And were dying for you my love
Pretty pink rose
Shes the poor mans gold shes the anarchist crucible
Flying in the face of the despot cannible
Shes a pretty pink rose
Never let it rain, never let it rain on the heart of the pretty pink rose
Pretty pink rose
And were living for you my love, were living for you
And were dying for you my love, pretty pink rose
Get me thru the pain, thru the pain of the thorn on the pretty pink rose
Never let it rain, never rain never rain, the pretty pink rose
Take me to the heart, to the heart, to the heart, of the pretty pink rose
Take me to the heart, to the heart, to the heart
Take me to the heart, to the heart, to the heart, of the pretty pink rose
Take me to the heart, to the heart, to the heart
Take me to the heart, to the heart, to the heart,, of the pretty pink rose
Take me to the heart, to the heart, to the heart
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pink Pink
pink pink
Confirmed that it was armed
pink pink
Was right to be alarmed
pink pink
Ensured that nought was harmed
pnk pink
Steady hand and mind
pink pink
Micro-chip designed
pink pink
The password was declined
pink pink
Another course to take
pink pink
Caution not to shake
pink pink
Captivity a mistake
pink pink
Beads upon the brow
pink pink
Experience the how
pink pink
No chance to turn back now
pink pink
Be certain not to slip
pink pink
One last wire to snip
pink pink
Two hearts that skip a beat
penk penk
The sound that gives a lift
penk penk
Time to collect the gift
penk penk
The robbery will be swift
poem by Chris Dawson
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Pink Life
Pink flowers
Pink pens
What about a pink life
Pink stars
Pink trees
What a pink life that would be
Pink shoes
Pink dresses
That is the pink fashion life for me!
poem by Claudia Wilson
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Rain-tree
Rain-tree
The rain-tree is of cassia family -
Like an elephant it stands on the road, clothed
With thick green foliage, dark against the sky
All along the Bandra-Kurla road in Mumbai.
You have to exert a little and see
Over the top to see the nazuna-type
Of pink flowers sitting above the foliage
In plentiful numbers, with up-thrust pink hairs.
Unlike the African tulip in front of ONGC
At Bandra Flyover visible from the distance,
Here the pink and green does not show off
As rain-tree flowers don’t advertise themselves.
Unlike copper-pod’s bright yellow flowers
The rain tree flowers don’t weave a carpet:
I’ve never seen the flowers on the ground below
Nor do they wither on the tree, how I wonder!
In monsoon rains, the leaves shine specially,
Transparent drops falling on walkers below,
Or with a thud on the racing car bonnets too,
Some choose to fall on road to rise a bit upwards.
I have not understood why it is called rain-tree:
Are they attracted, peacock-like, to the rain-clouds,
Or does the rain-bird which drinks water straight from heavens
Prefer this tree, and inspire Kalidasa to write Meghdoot?
poem by Daniel Trevelyn Joseph
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Loquacious
this afternoon, i talk a lot, and the more i talk,
the more words flowed from my mouth, the more i become less
of myself,
that is the irony of talking, the more i empty myself of this burden
using words, the lighter i become, the more useless i become of myself,
words and more words,
the more i have of them, the more meaningless my thoughts have become
and they who are listening have become more silent than ever,
i know, their minds are somewhere else, and i know that they know
that there is this spirit in front of them so restless,
wriggling like a worm, jumping like a horse, flapping like a bird
wanting to get rid of something: the fruit wanting to be free from the worm,
the horse from a gadfly, and the bird from the pricking flea....
what else can they say? they must have been saying.
we perfectly understand, we have been there, we were once a fruit
with a worm in our pulp, a horse with a gadfly in our tail,
a bird unable to get rid of the flea....
we were rotten once, we jumped the more, and now we are flying away.
what a life we have, we are never free, and we are never for even once
comfortable with what we are and what we have....
what we do not have of course, is what bothers us the most.
be it a horse, a bird, or a fruit, a flea, a worm, a gadfly of old
like what Socrates once mentioned before he took the fatal poison.
well he died, and here we are always trying to remember.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A man with a pink umbrella
Pink day
Pink hedge
Pink porch
Pink balcony
Pink woman
Pink ghost on a pink road!
Pink door
Pink hello
Pink dream
Pink sparrow
Pink night
poem by Framarz Bagheri
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Part 4: The fish saves the worm
The big-mouth fish, snatched the worm.
As the worm was afraid; a small piece of him,
was left, on the sharp object.
The fish cuddle him, in his mouth.
Swimming as fast as he can;
to make it, close to the shore.
The fish, spit him out, on the land.
As the worm landed, he look toward the fish.
And said, ' thank you for not eating me? '
I wish you well, the fish said. Take care!
As the worm grind his way, toward a new place.
Knowing this ain't his home, the ground was moist.
He drilled a hole, and discover a new home.
The End....
poem by Derrick Clark
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My Sneaking Tears
How heavy fell the rain that day
From burdened clouds of mournful grey.
The torrent forced them stay their height -
Composure swayed by onerous might.
My skin wrung wet with icy chill
As mud embraced that sodden hill;
But mind of mine had elsewhere gone -
'Twas clouds abandoned I was on.
The driving drops advanced their gears
To camouflage my sneaking tears -
Whence now did swell such floods of pain
To see me melt into this rain…
On equal bearing now were we:
This rain, myself, in harmony.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
Rain rain rain rain rain rain rain rain
Rain rain rain rain rain rain rain rain
Rain rain rain rain rain rain rain rain
Rain rain rain rain rain rain rain rain
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Worm Either Way
If you live along with all the other people
and are just like them, and conform, and are nice
you're just a worm --
and if you live with all the other people
and you don't like them and won't be like them and won't conform
then you're just the worm that has turned,
in either case, a worm.
The conforming worm stays just inside the skin
respectably unseen, and cheerfully gnaws away at the heart of life,
making it all rotten inside.
The unconforming worm -- that is, the worm that has turned --
gnaws just the same, gnawing the substance out of life,
but he insists on gnawing a little hole in the social epidermis
and poking his head out and waving himself
and saying: Look at me, I am not respectable,
I do all the things the bourgeois daren't do,
I booze and fornicate and use foul language and despise your honest man.--
But why should the worm that has turned protest so much?
The bonnie bonnie bourgeois goes a-whoring up back streets just the same.
The busy busy bourgeois imbibes his little share
just the same
if not more.
The pretty pretty bourgeois pinks his language just as pink
if not pinker,
and in private boasts his exploits even louder, if you ask me,
than the other.
While as to honesty, Oh look where the money lies!
So I can't see where the worm that has turned puts anything over
the worm that is too cunning to turn.
On the contrary, he merely gives himself away.
The turned worm shouts. I bravely booze!
the other says. Have one with me!
The turned worm boasts: I copulate!
the unturned says: You look it.
You're a d----- b----- b----- p----- bb-----, says the worm that's turned.
Quite! says the other. Cuckoo!
poem by David Herbert Lawrence
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Bird Watching
Bird Watching
Two sparrows, on roof of my car, noisily chirped, five
more sparrows came, tweeted too and showed no debate
culture, then they flew off and left the couple to it.
One, the male, I think, flew off and left, I assume, her
alone; not for long, he came back peeped and left again;
did this three times, finally she flew off with him, but
she deeply sighed. A drama had passed, that I had seen
and judged with a human’s limited understanding of
the life of other spices. Bird dropping on the car roof,
I had witnessed a love story, good as any seen on TV,
and as afternoon soaps must, had ended blissfully.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Rain,rain
Why am I here if youre there
So far away its not fair
To be without you like this
I miss you more than you know
The nights are long
The days slow
Without the warmth of your kiss
Wish you were back here with me
Cause out my window
All is see is
Rain , rain in the sky
Everywhere I look my eyes see
Rain , rain fallin down
Crying as it hits the ground
Rain , rain in my heart
Every day that were apart
Rain , rain
Falling rain , rain
Rain , rain
Only rain , rain
The sun is strong when youre near
But when youre gone it disappears
Behind an ocean of blue
The telephones not good enough
It cant reach out it cant touch
Me like the way you do
Wish you would knock at my door
Cause only you can stop the pouring
Rain , rain in the sky
Everywhere I look my eyes see
Rain , rain fallin down
Crying as it hits the ground
Rain , rain in my heart
Every day that were apart
Rain , rain
Falling rain , rain
Rain , rain
Only rain , rain
Maybe ill go outside
And walk beneath the clouds
Pretend its you thats watching over me
This isnt the only thing that comes
Between us now
Baby soon well be together
Oooo
( everywhere I look I see rain )
( everywhere I look I see rain )
Rain
( everywhere I look I see rain )
Everywhere I look I see rain
( everywhere I look I see rain )
Rain
( everywhere I look I see rain )
Rain
( rain , rain in the sky )
( everywhere I look my eyes see rain )
Rain
( rain falling down )
Down
( crying as it hits the ground )
Dont , dont let it hit the ground
( rain , rain in my heart everyday that were apart )
( rain , rain )
Rain
( falling rain, rain )
Rain
( rain, rain )
Everywhere I look I see rain
Everywhere I look I see rain
But I dont see you
Youre not near me
I need you ooo
Rain
Itll never be the same
If you dont stop the rain
song performed by by Cher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Little Bird
Little bird up in a tree
Looked down and sang a song to me
Of how it began
Na na na na na na
Na na na na na na
Na na na na na na
The trout in the shiny brook
Gave the worm another look
And told me not to worry
About my life
Na na na na na na
Na na na na na na
Na na na na na na
Tree in my own backyard
Stands all alone
Bears fruit for me
And it tastes so good
Wheres my pretty bird
He must have flown away
If I keep singing
Hell come back someday
Dawn, birds still gone
Guess Ill go mow the lawn
What a day, what a day
Oooo, what a beautiful day this is
Ooooooooo
Little bird up in a tree
Looked down a sang a song to me
The trout in a shiny brook
Gave the worm another look
And told me not to worry about my life
Little bird looked down
And sang a song to me
Little bird looked down
And sang a songto me
Little bird looked down
And sang a song to me
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pink
A blush of pink:
She'd caught a roving eye -
He gave a wink.
Her smile had played a shy
And quaint florescence;
The siren of pubescence
Drew him in.
She bade him touch her hair,
Suggesting that he dare
To kiss her pulsing lips!
E'er the fool a man, he did:
The drips of blood began to cheer -
And so, another rid:
Tips of fangs are sharp, you know -
Dancing ivory feeds her soul -
See her claim a howl upon a chilling wind!
Slain, he lay across a crimson floor:
She grinned in her repletion.
A blush of pink;
Beneath a glowering sky
Her savoured drink
Was done.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
pink pink pink pink pink pink her blush
pink pink pink pink pink pink her blush
pink pink pink pink pink pink her blush
pink pink pink pink pink pink
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Pink
Pink handkerchief
'Pink' username
Pink bag
Pink eyeglasses
Pink earrings
A girl in all-pink walking
A girl in all-pink talking
A girl in all-pink eating
A girl in all-pink hurting
A girl in all-pink crying
But a girl in all-pink, dazzling
A boy in a pink t-shirt, bedazzled
by a girl in all-pink
A girl with a Pink Soul.
poem by Mary Jesusa Villegas
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Angle Of Sorrow...
This be me the angle of sorrow…
This is me the angle you wont see tomorrow…
The angle of sorrow who looks for no tomorrow…
The angle of sorrow isn't the one you want to borrow…
This angle isn't going to mangle but he's just going to dangle…
From the ceilings he is going to dangle…
The angle or sorrow is the angle who wont be here forever however
His sorrow will remain in this place forever.
I will bring on sheer terror so be ready to fear
Im coming at you with a spear…don't let me get near… because I will tear you to
Smears…steer away from my path before you get blast…
This place is soo vast but remember that I am fast…
don't let me pass or you will be last…
This is the angle of sorrow…
The angle you wouldn't wanna see tomorrow…
By: Tou Yang
401
this summer she wears her pink kimono
and she will walk under the pink blossoms of the pink sakura
she will carry a pink umbrella
and she will cross the pink bridge of kokoma
pink leaves on her feet
pink fingernails on her pink wooden shoes
in honor of her love
that never bloomed to complete red
she will sit on a pink bench
praying for pink clouds to drift
on the pink skies.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The worm that exposes itself on the ground is waiting for a lucky bird to devour it.
Early bird
Early bird
catches worm.
Small bird sing earlier
Bird that see first
Break the dawn.
The bird tells
How to be a winner
In the long run.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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