Perhaps I Asked Too Large
Perhaps I asked too large --
I take -- no less than skies --
For Earths, grow thick as
Berries, in my native town --
My Basked holds -- just -- Firmaments --
Those -- dangle easy -- on my arm,
But smaller bundles -- Cram.
poem by Emily Dickinson
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Related quotes
Will winds come?
Sky was dark.
Holding thick bundles of rain inside
waiting for winds to
open bundles of rain,
take away heavy bundles
and free me to play with
white cool light clouds.
Sky was worried.
Will winds come and free me
from this dark bundles of rain
making me feel tired
making my knees paining?
When will those winds come?
How long I have to carry these dark bundles?
Waiting for winds
will I fall down
with tiring weakening bundles
of these dark clouds
in my hand?
Even the sun is moving down
with colour changing to red
going for rest for night.
When will these winds come?
Am I destined to fall down
tired and exhausted
with ever increasing burden
of these dark clouds in my hand?
10, September,2008
poem by Thomas Viruvelil
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As I Grow Old I Grow Smaller
As I grow old I grow smaller
Smaller and smaller-.
One day I will be small as nothing
That’s the smallest of all.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Room Gets Smaller
The room keeps getting smaller. What did I do this time? Logic is dead and gone. And time continues to move on. The room keeps getting smaller. No its not fine. I hurt someone very close and I was forewarned. Its was a mistake that created heart break. And the room get smaller. Yes I'm out of my mined. My failures are so large that I have fallen so far under par. A forty foot latter isn't high enough. God how this is going to get rough. And the room gets smaller smaller and smaller till it totters to the brink of collapse and I see the death of others coming. Its a domino effect that I created because I was too desperate. I paid the ultimate price of an unwanted sacrifice.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Smaller & Smaller
Drought makes the workers dream
Muscles and fields of green
Shovel the last few crumbs
Of generosity
Open hearts, open mind, open mouth, open vein
Drain
Someday the rains will come
My blistered hands tell me
Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow
Bite
Bite
Bite
Cry
Ill keep coming back
Smaller and smaller and smaller
Squash me
Smaller and smaller and smaller
Under the charity
Smaller and smaller and smaller
Under the topsoil
Smaller and smaller and smaller
Under the fingernail
Smaller and smaller and smaller
Then small becomes all becomes all..........
Bite
Bite
Bite
Cry
Its not a mirage
Its not a mirage
Trickling downward, trickling downward
Its not a mirage
Drain
Drain
Bite
Bite
Bite
Cry
Smaller and smaller and smaller and smaller and smaller..........
song performed by by Faith No More
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Small
i like my buddha
to be small
smaller than
an ant in a large
clean room
sparkling with white
in this smallness
is vastness
vast as womb
that holds
whole creation
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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The Capital Site
'I hear them speak of a Fed'ral site
Where shall arise a city bright
Mother, where is this bonzer spot?
Shall we not seek it and build our cot?
Is it in some mild and temp'rate zone
Where the native of drought is never known?'
'Not theah, not theah, me che-ild.'
'Is it where the mighty ranges rise
And point their white tops to the skies
Where mountain torrents hurry down
Past thriving farm and peaceful town
Where our great city may be planned,
A credit to our native land?'
'Not on yer life, me che-ild.'
'Is it where the noble rivers flow,
And fruit and corn abundant grow;
Where wide and verdant grasslands sweep,
And pleasant orchards, fruited deep,
Reach out for miles across the plains,
Smiling to sun and grateful rains?'
'You bet it ain't, me che-ild.'
'Is it far away, in the Empty North,
Where the camel trains pro back and forth;
Some unprotected, distant spot
Where the populace congesteth not;
Fair to our foeman's envious eye,
Which 'twould be ivise to occupy?'
'Right off the track, me che-ild.'
'Is it in that land where grows the spud,
And the patient dairy cow her cud
Doth ruminate, while high green maize,
And oats, and rape delight her days;
Where pumpkins, large as great barn doors,
Astonish country edi-tors?'
'That ain't the place, me che-ild.'
'Is it where the squatters squat their sheep,
And large and easy incomes reap;
That fertile land. unpeopled still,
Where none may delve, or grow, or till;
Those large, unoccupied estates
Where sheep-lords reign and dodge their rates?'
'Clean out of it, me che-ild.'
'Then, mother, where the devil is
This splendid city to be riz?
Is it where the giant forest trees
Sway in the soft and balmy breeze;
Where laughing brooklets twist and turn
Through gullies decked with tender fern?'
'Aw, give it up, me che-ild.'
'Where the cocky prays, me gentle lad,
In vain for rain, and the seasons bad
Come regularly once a year,
And the outlook's permanently drear;
Where the Cotter cots - but mostly not;
Right, in the coastland's driest spot;
'It is theah, it is theah, me che-ild.'
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Smaller And Smaller
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
(p) Faith No More
< Mike Bordin: Drums; Roddy Bottum: Keyboards;
Billy Gould: Bass Guitar; Jim Martin: Guitar;
Mike Patton: Vocals >
( Angel Dust [Slash Records, 1992] )
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Drought makes the workers dream
Muscles and fields of green
Shovel the last few crumbs
Of generosity
Open heart, open mind, open mouth, open vein
DRAIN
Someday the rains will come
My blistered hands tell me
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow
BITE
BITE
BITE
CRY
I'll keep coming back
smaller and smaller and smaller
squash me
smaller and smaller and smaller
under the charity
smaller and smaller and smaller
under the topsoil
smaller and smaller and smaller
under the fingernail
smaller and smaller and smaller
then small becomes all becomes all.......
BITE
BITE
BITE
CRY
It's not a mirage
It's not a mirage
trickling downward, trickling downward
It's not a mirage
DRAIN
DRAIN
BITE
BITE
BITE
CRY
smaller and smaller and smaller and smaller and smaller.......
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
song performed by by Faith No More
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Black Dog Running
Today while driving a rural road
just a few minutes from my house,
I saw a black dog running toward me on
the right shoulder of the road,
Although it was but a split-second,
the black dog’s eyes met mine…
I asked myself;
Where is he going?
What’s his name?
What’s his purpose?
What does he think about?
What does he feel?
Is the black dog a metaphor for me?
I asked myself:
Where am I going?
What’s my name?
What’s my purpose?
What do I think about?
What do I feel?
Am I a metaphor for the black dog?
How does the black dog help balance nature?
How do I help balance nature?
I then realized,
The black dog and I were,
one and the same! Two creatures,
defining the present and future in
any given moment with our aliveness!
“Life, not purpose is what really matters”
I glanced at the rear view mirror
and saw the black dog grow
smaller and smaller,
His tail was happily wagging,
and seemed to say…
“Glad to see that you finally get it, Ray”
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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The Way To The City
A CITIZEN CAME ACROSS A NATIVE AND SAID, WHICH WAY I BEG OF THEE' LEADS TO THE CITY? HE ASKED THE NATIVE WHO REPLIED! OH, EVERY WAY BUT THIS WAY! AND THE SURPRISED CITIZEN ASKED CURIOUSLY, WHAT MEAN YOU BY THAT STATEMENT? AND THE NATIVE REPLIED, WELL, THIS WAY LEADS TO MY NATIVITY, THAT MUCH I AM SURE OF!
poem by Overlord Don Manuel Ihcakeyno
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The Sodger's Lassie
A'the toun is to the doun
Puin' o' the blaeberrie.
Ab's gane, Rab's gane,
Aggie's gane, Maggie's gane,
A' the toun is to the doun,
An's left the house to wae and me.
Heigho the blaeberrie!
Wha'll hae a blaeberrie?
Ah, to min' o' auld lang syne,
Puin' o' the blaeberrie!
Sodger Tam, he cam an' cam,
Puin' o' the blaeberrie;
Still I went, an' still I bent,
Puin' o' the blaeberrie.
Berries high, an' berries low,
Heigho the blaeberrie!
Tam maun come where berries grow,
Puin' o' the blaeberrie.
Heigho the blaeberrie!
Wha'll hae a blaeberrie?
Ah, to min' o' auld lang syne,
Puin' o' the blaeberrie!
Never ance I looked at Tam,
Heigho the blaeberrie!
Weel I kent him when he cam,
Puin' o' the blaeberrie.
Baith our faces to the groun',
Puin' o' the blaeberrie,
Tam cam near without a soun',
Heigho the blaeberrie!
Wow! but we were near, I ween,
Puin' o' the blaeberrie!
A' the air was warm between,
Heigho the blaeberrie!
Could a lassie think o' ill,
Puin' o' the blaeberrie?
Berries e'en grow where they will,
Heigho the blaeberrie!
Berries here, an' berries there,
Heigho the blaeberrie!
I was kissed or I was ware,
Puin' o' the blaeberrie.
Wha wad fash wi' ane anither
Puin' o' the blaeberrie?
Berries whiles will grow thegither,
Heigho the blaeberrie!
I was kissed or I could speer,
Heigho the blaeberrie!
Hech! that folk sud come sae near,
A' to pu' a blaeberrie!
While I grat and chid forbye,
Heigho the blaeberrie!
Doun we sat-I ken na why-
A' amang the blaeberrie.
Heigho the blaeberrie!
Wha 'll hae a blaeberrie?
Oh, to min' o' auld lang syne,
A' amang the blaeberrie!
Sidelong Tam he cam an' cam
A' amang the blaeberrie.
Wha could tell he meant na fair?
Weel I ken I chid him sair,
But that day we gaed na mair
Puin' o' the blaeberrie!
Heigho the blaeberrie!
Wha 'll hae a blaeberrie?
Oh, to min' o' auld lang syne,
Doun amang the blaeberrie!
poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
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Let Him Dangle
Bentley said to craig let him have it chris
They still dont know today just what he meant by this
Craig fired the pistol, but was too young to swing
So the police took bentley and the very next thing
Let him dangle
Let him dangle
Bentley had surrendered, he was under arrest,
When he gave chris craig that fatal request
Craig shot sidney miles, he took bentleys word
The prosecution claimed as they charged them with murder
Let him dangle
Let him dangle
They say derek bentley was easily led
Well whats that to the woman that sidney miles wed
Though guilty was the verdict, and craig had shot him dead
The gallows were for bentley and still she never said
Let him dangle
Let him dangle
Well its hard to imagine its the times that have changed
When theres a murder in the kitchen that is brutal and strange
If killing anybody is a terrible crime
Why does this bloodthirsty chorus come round from time to time
Let him dangle
Not many people thought that bentley would hang
But the word never came, the phone never rang
Outside wandsworth prison there was horror and hate
As the hangman shook bentleys hand to calculate his weight
Let him dangle
From a welfare state to society murder
Bring back the noose is always heard
Whenever those swine are under attack
But it wont make you even
It wont bring him back
Let him dangle
Let him dangle (string him up)
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Piece of cake (Oooo, that sounds good!)
My diet's not working
It's easy to see
And my waist isn't
Getting any smaller
So in a splash of perspiration
I'm overwhelmed with inspiration
Instead of losing weight
I'll just grow taller!
poem by David Whalen
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My best prize
My best prize
Precious but has no size
Bigger than earths
Larger than skies
My kids in my eyes
I must thank the creator
Who sent me this treasure
That I received with a great pleasure
Shining stars in the skies
Linked with magic ties
poem by Bouche Cousue
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And that because the moving parts are a million times smaller than the ones we're familiar with, they move a million times faster, just as a smaller tuning fork produces a higher pitch than a large one.
quote by K. Eric Drexler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: Let Goodness Always Prevail
The mammoth trees are cut for timber's sake;
Large trees along the roads are felled as well;
The smaller ones in wild now grow and swell;
Then clouds to pour the rain, how can God make!
When virtues aren't nurtured in life sometime,
Then vices grow with vengeance in man's heart;
When bells of praise and hymns to God don't chime,
Blessings and grace from heaven can't depart.
When man's good deeds are stopped for reasons much,
His sins grow from a mole to mountain size;
How can the Maker's favours ever touch,
As sins abound and soul afills with vice?
For God to bless, our righteousness must grow,
And seeds of virtues, good deeds, one must sow!
poem by John Celes
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Prelude to Space
An Epithaliamium
So Man, grown vigorous now,
Holds himself ripe to breed,
Daily devises how
To ejaculate his seed
And boldly fertilize
The black womb of the unconsenting skies.
Some now alive expect
(I am told) to see the large,
Steel member grow erect,
Turgid with the fierce charge
Of our whole planet's skill,
Courage, wealth, knowledge, concentrated will,
Straining with lust to stamp
Our likeness on the abyss-
Bombs, gallows, Belsen camp,
Pox, polio, Thais' kiss
Or Judas, Moloch's fires
And Torquemada's (sons resemble sires).
Shall we, when the grim shape
Roars upward, dance and sing?
Yes: if we honour rape,
If we take pride to Ring
So bountifully on space
The sperm of our long woes, our large disgrace.
poem by Clive Staples Lewis
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My mother's hands
My mother had thick, wide, hands,
callused from years of hard work.
I used to like to hold them,
feel their strength and warmth
Those were the hands that cared,
caressed and held her me close.
Those were the hands that scrubbed
and washed, cooked for us and nursed.
My mother had beautiful hands
and would paint her nails light pink.
They were warm, artistic hands
that could crochet well and knit.
Those were the hands that created,
made beautiful shawls and clothes.
Those were the hands that altered dresses
I wore ‘til they were old.
My mother had beautiful hands
that cooked and cleaned and scrubbed,
and within the things that those hands did
were bundles and bundles of love.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Oojah-ka-Piv
The people who live
On the Oojah-ka-Piv
Stand around in bundles of nine
When asked how it feels
They reply 'Curried Eels'!
Otherwise - everything's going fine!
poem by Spike Milligan
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Great Mullen
One leaves his leaves at home
beomg a mullen and sends up a lighthouse
to peer from: I will have my way,
yellow--A mast with a lantern, ten
fifty, a hundred, smaller and smaller
as they grow more--Liar, liar, liar!
You come from her! I can smell djer-kiss
on your clothes. Ha! you come to me,
you, I am a point of dew on a grass-stem.
Why are you sending heat down on me
from your lantern?--You are cowdung, a
dead stick with the bark off. She is
squirting on us both. She has has her
hand on you!--well?--She has defiled
ME.--Your leaves are dull, thick
and hairy.--Every hair on my body will
hold you off from me. You are a
dungcake, birdlime on a fencerail.--
I love you, straight, yellow
finger of God pointing to--her!
Liar, broken weed, dungcake, you have--
I am a cricket waving his antennae
and you are high, grey and straight. Ha!
poem by William Carlos Williams
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Halley's Comet
Halley's Comet, I-said-a Halley's Comet
How could you know that I lived in a desperate world?
How could you dream that we were all made out of stone?
What is the truth, what is the faithful lasting proof?
What is the central theme to this everlasting spoof?
Knock on my windows, link up the chains
It's gotta be easy, no splinters no pain
It's Cadillac rainbows and lots of spaghetti
And I love meatballs so you better be ready
I'm going down to the central part of town
I'm going down to the central part of town
Central part of town, I'm going down
I'm going down to the central part of town
["Halley's Comet" over doo-wop]
What did I do?
And don't be blamin' eat my cashew
For everything I do to get the story
And everything I do to pull me in
And everything I say to get the title
But when they use it on me I reject it
What would you do if you ate my daddy's shoes?
What would you say if it was naturally for you?
How would you feel if it rained on ???
How would you like to have your thick strawberry goo?
I'm sinking down, it's a glorious feeling
To make a big difference, my body is reeling
Even Carl Sagan can't shine my shoes
'Cause I know deep inside it's got to ???
(mighty fine something)
I'm going down to the central part of town
I'm going down to the central part of town
I'm going down to the central part of town
I'm going down to the central part of town
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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