The Power Of Woman
Mighty art thou, because of the peaceful charms of thy presence;
That which the silent does not, never the boastful can do.
Vigor in man I expect, the law in its honors maintaining,
But, through the graces alone, woman e'er rules or should rule.
Many, indeed, have ruled through the might of the spirit and action,
But then thou noblest of crowns, they were deficient in thee.
No real queen exists but the womanly beauty of woman;
Where it appears, it must rule; ruling because it appears!
poem by Friedrich Schiller
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Sonnet 41: Those pretty wrongs that liberty commits
Those pretty wrongs that liberty commits
When I am sometime absent from thy heart,
Thy beauty and thy years full well befits,
For still temptation follows where thou art.
Gentle thou art, and therefore to be won;
Beauteous thou art, therefore to be assailed;
And when a woman woos, what woman's son
Will sourly leave her till he have prevailed?
Ay me, but yet thou mightst my seat forbear,
And chide thy beauty and thy straying youth,
Who lead thee in their riot even there
Where thou art forced to break a twofold truth:
Hers, by thy beauty tempting her to thee,
Thine, by thy beauty being false to me.
poem by William Shakespeare
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Chauvinist
I’d never really comprehended such a mighty range of
Shapes and sizes down behind, it’s really rather strange:
The buttock muscle in a woman, overlaid with fat
Is actually such a focal point for men to want to pat
Or squeeze, and then to tease her if it’s eminently stout,
Or even risk a stay in clink to sting it with a clout!
After all, we men are tuned to be that way inclined –
And tho’ our needs are varied, girls, they’re all perverse of mind!
Best of all, our sacred dream: to see her shed her gown
When gliding to the shower for the ritual sponging down.
But then alas! With body lathered, oops! she drops the soap;
‘Please! ’ we beg her, ‘bend and bare! ’ But we can only hope!
I’m sure by now you get the picture – like a rule of thumb –
That men like me obsess all day about the fairer bum.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
My dreams are of a
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Brittania's Throne
MIRROR of the trackless sky,
Priestess of its changing mood,
Ere thy shores were piled on high
Thou didst feel God’s Spirit brood;
Thou didst hear His word alone;—
Be thou still Britannia’s throne.
From thy deeps the creeping things
Spread through cove and brook and fen,
Changing scales for soaring wings
And the mould of mortal men;
From thy womb the world hath grown!
Be thou still Britannia’s throne.
Then among the happier ones
Filing in millennial train,
Thou didst make us favoured sons,
Teaching us to rule and reign:
Thou didst call us for thine own—
Be thou still Britannia’s throne.
Mighty Mistress, thou didst school
England’s heart in all thy ways;
May she learn no nicer rule
In the ease of after days;
For the greatness we have known
Be thou still Britannia’s throne.
For the passion of our plea,
For the memory of our brave,
For the fights we fought for thee,
For the bones that thou dost lave,
For the love that we have shown!
Be thou still Britannia’s throne.
poem by Arthur Maquarie
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Heart Breaking Woman
I'm heart breaking
rule making woman
if you want to play with me you'll have follow my rules
I'm a heart breaking
rule making woman
if you'd wanna get to me know there are rules
I've got the hips
lips and swagger
I am a heart breaking rule making
WOMAN! ! !
Understand me
understand me
I am a Heart Breaking rule making Woman
I'll be called by my name
poem by Sylvia Loven Carter
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Sonnet: Woman
Woman, thy beauty lies not in thine shape,
Nor in the color of thy skin but heart!
If only thou practiced a tongue-tied art,
And modesty with neck with a high drape!
Woman, vie not another feminine,
For jealousy is inborn in thine eyes;
Be not wayward or play the game of dice,
For thou inebriate more than old wine.
Be honest and obey thine husband’s word;
He needs thee in mind/ body and spirit;
Thy patience and love supreme are unheard;
Let not your mind contract a bad habit.
O woman of virtues, thou art the best;
Be thou firm even if death be your test!
poem by John Celes
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Essences
The shadows that follow my essences,
capturing the invisible power that commands
the love of men kind; many thou of odor's
form an invisible rule, capturing the intoxicating
scent that blinds beauty.
Odor's, scent are capture from the most small
particle and pieces of existence, ruling each
movement awakening passion and lust.
The splendid orange blossoms that preserve my
youth, will then perish when age comes near.
But my scent will stay alive in every part of my
belongings and in every place of my existence,
and in the shadows of my death, the essence will
rule the existence of my lover taking a last breath,
my soul and spirit will take over to
assure my life will not be forgotten after I'm gone,
the essences the intoxicating scent of a woman's
skin will always rule the mind of men kind.
poem by Elenushka Toledo
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Carthage
Oh thou degenerate child of the great and glorious mother,
Who with the Romans' strong might couplest the Tyrians' deceit!
But those ever governed with vigor the earth they had conquered,--
These instructed the world that they with cunning had won.
Say! what renown does history grant thee? Thou, Roman-like, gained'st
That with the steel, which with gold, Tyrian-like, then thou didst rule!
poem by Friedrich Schiller
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Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 1. The Musician's Tale; The Saga of King Olaf I. -- The Challenge Of Thor
I am the God Thor,
I am the War God,
I am the Thunderer!
Here in my Northland,
My fastness and fortress,
Reign I forever!
Here amid icebergs
Rule I the nations;
This is my hammer,
Miölner the mighty;
Giants and sorcerers
Cannot withstand it!
These are the gauntlets
Wherewith I wield it,
And hurl it afar off;
This is my girdle;
Whenever I brace it,
Strength is redoubled!
The light thou beholdest
Stream through the heavens,
In flashes of crimson,
Is but my red beard
Blown by the night-wind,
Affrighting the nations!
Jove is my brother;
Mine eyes are the lightning;
The wheels of my chariot
Roll in the thunder,
The blows of my hammer
Ring in the earthquake!
Force rules the world still,
Has ruled it, shall rule it;
Meekness is weakness,
Strength is triumphant,
Over the whole earth
Still is it Thor's-Day!
Thou art a God too,
O Galilean!
And thus single-handed
Unto the combat,
Gauntlet or Gospel,
Here I defy thee!
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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The Challenge of Thor
I am the God Thor,
I am the War God,
I am the Thunderer!
Here in my Northland,
My fastness and fortress,
Reign I forever!
Here amid icebergs
Rule I the nations;
This is my hammer,
Miölner the mighty;
Giants and sorcerers
Cannot withstand it!
These are the gauntlets
Wherewith I wield it,
And hurl it afar off;
This is my girdle;
Whenever I brace it,
Strength is redoubled!
The light thou beholdest
Stream through the heavens,
In flashes of crimson,
Is but my red beard
Blown by the night-wind,
Affrighting the nations!
Jove is my brother;
Mine eyes are the lightning;
The wheels of my chariot
Roll in the thunder,
The blows of my hammer
Ring in the earthquake!
Force rules the world still,
Has ruled it, shall rule it;
Meekness is weakness,
Strength is triumphant,
Over the whole earth
Still is it Thor's Day!
Thou art a God too,
O Galilean!
And thus singled-handed
Unto the combat,
Gauntlet or Gospel,
Here I defy thee!
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Rule Britannia
When Britain first, at Heaven's command,
Arose from out the azure main;
This was the charter of the land,
And guardian angels sung this strain:
"Rule, Britannia, rule the waves;
Britons never will be slaves."
The nations, not so blest as thee,
Must, in their turns, to tyrants fall:
While thou shalt flourish great and free,
The dread and envy of them all.
"Rule, Britannia, rule the waves;
Britons never will be slaves."
Still more majestic shalt thou rise,
More dreadful, from each foreign stroke:
As the loud blast that tears the skies,
Serves but to root thy native oak.
"Rule, Britannia, rule the waves;
Britons never will be slaves."
Thee haughty tyrants ne'er shall tame:
All their attempts to bend thee down,
Will but arouse thy generous flame;
But work their woe, and thy renown.
"Rule, Britannia, rule the waves;
Britons never will be slaves."
To thee belongs the rural reign;
Thy cities shall with commerce shine:
All thine shall be the subject main,
And every shore it circles thine.
"Rule, Britannia, rule the waves;
Britons never will be slaves."
The Muses, still with freedom found,
Shall to thy happy coast repair:
Blest isle! with matchless beauty crown'd,
And manly hearts to guard the fair.
"Rule, Britannia, rule the waves;
Britons never will be slaves."
poem by James Thomson
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Sonnet- Woman
Woman, thou art no goddess but human!
A creature of God thro’ Adam and Eve;
With flesh and blood like any other man;
In love and destiny, thou should believe.
Thou art no object of Love and passion;
Like man thou must too feel the hunger pangs;
Thou must seduce the man by tradition;
Let not thine teeth turn into poison-fangs!
Woman, love-making's not thine profession;
Labour, thou must to deliver children;
Life is not fun, mere frolic and fashion;
Let not the Serpent veer thee from Heaven.
Woman, thy role on earth is so divine;
Thou must not be the vice for men like wine.
poem by John Celes
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The evening star
Beam of the lonely eve! thou comest forth
Upon thy little cloud of silver hue,
Laughing like mirth, within the welkin blue,
While night sits darkly in the silent north,
Or steals with viewless step around thy charms.
Spirit of twilight! cloudless be thy sway,
Before the warm morn folds thee in his arms;
Sure peace is in thy dwelling far away;
Thou stand'st unshaken by the world's alarms,
As if some angel from thy twinkling ray
Look'd out, to woo the other gems of light,
That brightly sparkle on the veil of day;
Thou walk'st so cloudless with the queen of night,
As if she long'd for aye to have thee in her sight!
poem by Katie Evans
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter XXXV: Rules part 2
What’s the rule, when money could buy
What’s the rule, when power is absolute
What’s the rule, when feeling involved
What’s the rule, when pride is important
What’s the rule, when look affects
What’s the rule, when victory is a must
What’s the rule, when worlds are vain
What’s the rule, people don’t change
What’s the rule, when good is not always right
What’s the rule, freedom is misunderstood
What’s the rule, anger conquers
What’s the rule, past neglected
What’s the rule, crime that committed
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part I: To Manon: VIII
AS TO HIS CHOICE OF HER
If I had chosen thee, thou shouldst have been
A virgin proud, untamed, immaculate,
Chaste as the morning star, a saint, a queen,
Scarred by no wars, no violence of hate.
Thou shouldst have been of soul commensurate
With thy fair body, brave and virtuous
And kind and just; and, if of poor estate,
At least an honest woman for my house.
I would have had thee come of honoured blood
And honourable nurture. Thou shouldst bear
Sons to my pride and daughters to my heart,
And men should hold thee happy, wise, and good.
Lo, thou art none of this, but only fair.
Yet must I love thee, dear, and as thou art.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Ah, Silly Pug, Wert Thou So Sore Afraid
Ah, silly Pug, wert thou so sore afraid?
Mourn not, my Wat, nor be thou so dismayed.
It passeth fickle Fortune’s power and skill
To force my heart to think thee any ill.
No Fortune base, thou sayest, shall alter thee?
And may so blind a witch so conquer me?
No, no, my Pug, though Fortune were not blind,
Assure thyself she could not rule my mind.
Fortune, I know, sometimes doth conquer kings,
And rules and reigns on earth and earthly things,
But never think Fortune can bear the sway
If virtue watch, and will her not obey.
Ne chose I thee by fickle Fortune’s rede,
Ne she shall force me alter with such speed
But if to try this mistress’ jest with thee.
Pull up thy heart, suppress thy brackish tears,
Torment thee not, but put away thy fears.
Dead to all joys and living unto woe,
Slain quite by her that ne’er gave wise men blow,
Revive again and live without all dread,
The less afraid, the better thou shalt speed.
poem by Queen Elizabeth I
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Holy Sonnet X: Death Be Not Proud
Death, be not proud, though some have callèd thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow
Die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which yet thy pictures be,
Much pleasure, then from thee much more, must low
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones and soul's delivery.
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings and desperate men
And dost with poison, war and sickness dwell,
And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well
And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then ?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.
poem by John Donne
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Holy Sonnet X
Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell;
And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well
And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.
poem by John Donne
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Holy Sonnet X:Death be not proud
Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell;
And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well
And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.
poem by John Donne
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Holy Sonnet 10 - Death be not proud
Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those, whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy picture[s] be,
Much pleasure, then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.
Thou'rt slave to Fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy, or charms can make us sleep as well,
And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And Death shall be no more, Death, thou shalt die.
poem by John Donne from Holy Sonnets
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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I Will Follow You
oh gentle heart, why hath thou spin blood so hurriedly?
has she threathen thee to bark with and without her presence.
since you hold her memory, you have never slept.
why heart, why did you let her presence make a turn against
my direction.
please heart speak, do not be sceard i am your keeper,
thou you hold me.
i had saw a woman who had the light to brighten the world
and you lay quiet as if she mean nothing.
i have meet a woman who will control nature with her beauty,
and yet you pretend not to see her.
i have gaze at a woman with the world, you left us alone as
if she did not worth it.
why heart, why did you adore that woman in that isolated hamlet?
did she hold your replica captive? or is she my extracted bones?
you had only saw her for three days and yet you complicate my thought
with a thousand meetings.
heart has she buckled you to succumb for my return in her nest?
heart i have looked with a billion glampse and have found a trillion
description but her types her many.
heart i have known you since you were born and i know you will
not make a wrong turn, i will follow you.
poem by Kemurl Fofanah
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