Hernani
Cistercians might crack their sides
With laughter, and exemption get,
At sight of heroes clasping brides,
And hearing--O the horn! the horn!
The horn of their obstructive debt!
But quit the stage, that note applies
For sermons cosmopolitan,
Hernani. Have we filched our prize,
Forgetting . . .? O the horn! the horn!
The horn of the Old Gentleman!
poem by George Meredith
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Every Friday
Every Friday I look like a shit,
Every Friday I look like a shit,
Every Friday I look like a shit,
I loooooooook like a shit.
But every Monday I am like a horn,
But every Monday I am like a horn,
But every Monday I am like a horn,
I aaaaaaaaam like a hoooooooooorn.
I work in the office of intercom,
I work in the office of intercom,
I work in the office of intercom,
Of iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinter cooooooom.
But every Monday I am like a horn,
And every Tuesday I am like a horn,
On Wednesday and Tuesday I am a horn,
I aaaaaaaaaaaam like a hoooooooooooorn.
On every Friday I look like a shit,
My salary is more now a little bit.
But every Monday I am like a horn,
It looks as on Sunday I was born.
On Friday morning I am so glad
That by the evening I’ll look like a fad
Or may be like a dirty pig
Trying the ground to dig, dig, dig.
But…every Monday I am like a horn,
On certain Sunday I was born,
And every Friday I am like a shit.
My life is better........, a little bit.
More or less
It was my sincere confess.
Lol, lol, lol and loooooooool.
On every Friday there is no control.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska
March 16th,2011
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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Horn
Rhine wine, car horn
Now that youve deceived me, and played my name around
And hung those nasty flyers, on all the buildings in town
Dribbled my possessions in a ring around the earth
And bought and sold my self-control for less than it was worth
Now I know the reason that Im feeling so forlorn
Ill pick you up at eight as usual, listen for my horn
Rhine wine, car horn
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Hunter’s Song
RISE! Sleep no more! ’T is a noble morn:
The dews hang thick on the fringed thorn,
And the frost shrinks back, like a beaten hound,
Under the steaming, steaming ground.
Behold, where the billowy clouds flow by,
And leave us alone in the clear gray sky!
Our horses are ready and steady.—So, ho!
I ’m gone, like a dart from the Tartar’s bow.
Hark, hark!—Who calleth the maiden Morn
From her sleep in the woods and the stubble corn?
The horn,—the horn!
The merry, sweet ring of the hunter’s horn.
Now, thorough the copse, where the fox is found,
And over the stream, at a mighty bound,
And over the high lands, and over the low,
O’er furrows, o’er meadows, the hunters go!
Away!—as a hawk flies full at its prey,
So flieth the hunter, away,—away!
From the burst at the cover till set of sun,
When the red fox dies, and—the day is done!
Hark, hark!—What sound on the wind is borne?
’T is the conquering voice of the hunter’s horn.
The horn,—the horn!
The merry, bold voice of the hunter’s horn.
Sound! Sound the horn! To the hunter good
What ’s the gulley deep or the roaring flood?
Right over he bounds, as the wild stag bounds,
At the heels of his swift, sure, silent hounds.
O, what delight can a mortal lack,
When he once is firm on his horse’s back,
With his stirrups short, and his snaffle strong,
And the blast of the horn for his morning song?
Hark, hark!—Now, home! and dream till morn
Of the bold, sweet sound of the hunter’s horn!
The horn,—the horn!
O, the sound of all sounds is the hunter’s horn!
poem by Barry Cornwall
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Ghosts Of Cape Horn
All around old cape horn
Ships of the line, ships of the morn
Some who wish theyd never been born
They are the ghosts of cape horn
Fal deral da riddle de rum
With a rim dim diddy
And a rum dum dum
Sailing away at the break of morn
They are the ghosts of cape horn
See them all in sad repair
Demons dance everywhere
Southern gales, tattered sails
And none to tell the tales
Come all of you rustic old sea dogs
Who follow the great southern cross
You were rounding the horn
In the eye of a storm
When ya lost er one day
And you read all yer letters
From oceans away
Then you took them to the bottom of the sea
All around old cape horn
Ships of the line, ships of the morn
Those who wish theyd never been born
They are the ghosts of cape horn
Fal deral da riddle de rum
With a rim dim diddy
And a rum dum dum
Sailing away at the break of morn
They are the ghosts of cape horn
Come all you old sea dogs from devon
Southampton, penzance, and kinsale
You were caught by the chance
Of a sailors last dance
It was not meant to be
And ya read all yer letters
Cried anchor aweigh
Then ya took them to the bottom of the sea
All around old cape horn
Ships of the line, ships of the morn
Those who wish theyd never been born
They are the ghosts of cape horn
Fal deral da riddle de rum
With a rim dim diddy
And a rum dum dum
Sailing away at the break of morn
They are the ghosts of cape horn
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If regret was a horn, one's horn would reach the sky.
Little Horn
Theres an apple in the pussy mouth
Now I am the dinner whore
Theres a tumor in the t.v. mouth
Burn it out before it grows
Someone better get the dog to kick,
Jaws wired shut to save the dick
Out of the bottomless pit comes the little horn
little horn is born
The world spreads its legs for another star
World shows its face for another scar
Dead will dance for what is left
The worms will wait with baited breath
your blind have now become my deaf
So says this little horn
save yourself from this...
(chorus)
song performed by by Marilyn Manson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Finest Worksong
The time to rise has been engaged
Youre better best to rearrange
Im talking here to me alone
I listen to the finest worksong
Your finest hour
Another chance has been engaged
To throw thoreau and rearrange
You are following this time
I beg you not beg to rhyme (blow your horn)
Your finest hour (blow your horn)
Take your instinct by the reins
Your better best to rearrange
What we want and what we need
Has been confused been confused (blow your horn)
Your finest hour (blow your horn)
(repeat 3rd verse)
song performed by by REM
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There was an Old Man of Cape Horn,
Who wished he had never been born;
So he sat on a chair,
Till he died of despair,
That dolorous Man of Cape Horn.
by Edward Lear from A Book of Nonsense (1846)
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The Poor Boy’s Christmas
Observe, my child, this pretty scene,
And note the air of pleasure keen
With which the widow’s orphan boy
Toots his tin horn, his only toy.
What need of costly gifts has he?
The widow has nowhere to flee.
And ample noise his horn emits
To drive the widow into fits.
MORAL:
The philosophic mind can see
The uses of adversity.
poem by Ellis Parker Butler
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A Fairy Hunt
Who would hear the fairy horn
Calling all the hounds of Finn
Must be in a lark's nest born
When the moon is very thin.
I who have the gift can hear
Hounds and horn and tally ho,
And the tongue of Bran as clear
As Christmas bells across the snow.
And beside my secret place
Hurries by the fairy fox,
With the moonrise on his face,
Up and down the mossy rocks.
Then the music of a horn
And the flash of scarlet men,
Thick as poppies in the corn
All across the dusky glen.
Oh! the mad delight of chase!
Oh ! the shouting and the cheer !
Many an owl doth leave his place
In the dusty tree to hear.
poem by Francis Ledwidge
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The Silver Horn
"Come, rest with me now, my silver horn!
My melodious joy, my silver horn!
These many long years my constant friend,
Together let our toiling end.
Yet fain would I ask (were mine the choice)
For a moment of strength to give thee voice--
One silvery peal ere life shall cease;
But not for war--for blessed peace."
Yes! once again ring, sweet silver horn
That long ago rang on battle morn--
From vale and glen that summon'd then
To arms! to arms! a thousand men.
For peace ring now! for peace ring high!
Ring a welcoming peal that shall not die
Till mountain and mound, the earth around,
Responsive songs in echo sound.
"Thy whispers I hear, my silver horn!
My melodious joy, my silver horn!
They comfort me oft with such control,
Methinks thou hast a living soul.
Then cherish we both one calm content;
For the land that we love our powers were spent;
And o're the turf that greens our grave,
For ages may her banner wave."
"I kiss thee adieu, my silver horn!
My melodious joy, my silver horn!"
Then suddenly loos'd the bugler's clasp;
His kiss was but a dying gasp.
Yet marvels of power can love evoke:
At the touch of his lips the bugle spoke!
And wondrously sweet, and clear, and strong,
From thence outrang a silver song.
poem by Henry Clay Work
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Lena Horn
Lena Horn
Lena Horn dead at 92, I think of this as I stumble up a stony track,
I used to dream of meeting and marrying her, didn’t know she was
much older than me. No, more, I lusted after her kept a picture of
her face above my bed. till my new wife came and replaced it
with Virgin Mary. It was her sexy voice you see, it brought dreams
of impossible love to the surface. I had her records till the woman,
who took her picture down from my bedroom wall, took them with
her when she left. Bet she can get a lot of money for them now.
Lena Horn, Edit Piaf, Marilyn Monroe, my great mistresses of yore,
how can I possible love, an Amy Winehouse, of this restless world,
or a Courtney love?
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Into The Mystic
We were born before the wind
Also younger than the sun
Ere the bonnie boat was won as we sailed into the mystic
Hark, now hear the sailors cry
Smell the sea and feel the sky
Let your soul and spirit fly into the mystic
And when that fog horn blows I will be coming home
And when that fog horn blows I want to hear it
I dont have to fear it
I want to rock your gypsy soul
Just like way back in the days of old
Then magnificently we will float into the mystic
And when that fog horn blows you know I will be coming home
And when thst fog horn whistle blows I got to hear it
I dont have to fear it
I want to rock your gypsy soul
Just like way back in the days of old
And together we will float into the mystic
Come on girl...
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Softened Sounds
Muted music from the brass horn
drowns out the way the notes were born.
Tinny, not full with rounded tones
sounding to me like quiet moans.
Uncover the flare. Let the horn blare
the way it was meant to be.
If you wish to hear quiet melodies
let the hands play soft ivories.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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The Horn Of Africa
The Horn of Africa is full of Pirates and,
They've captured many ships;
But one day, they will live to regret their actions!
The Horn of Africa,
We need peace in this world to move on;
But robbing from one person to the other is not the solution,
So one day you have to pay for your sins.
The Golf of Aden and the Horn of Africa!
Who is there able to check on these people?
For we need peace on this earth oh my people.
Oh Somalia, why these acts of evil? !
Why can't we all live peacefully on this earth?
Live and let us live.
You claim to be sea-robbers and still pray to your God,
This is what i still don't understand on this issue;
Because action and reaction are always equal,
And you will live to regret on these actions one day.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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the Golden Horn Of Istanbul
THE ‘GOLDEN HORN’ OF
ISTANBUL
It is an inlet arm from the Bosphoros Strait,
Which stretches inwards towards the west;
And curves up like a deer’s horn, -
Known to the world as the ‘Golden Horn’!
It separates the old Istanbul’s historic city,
From its modern counterpart in the north;
Forming the world’s longest natural harbor,
A waterway almost 7.5 km long!
The harbor was once the Naval Headquarters
of the Byzantine Empire!
When a heavy chain guarded the inlet’s
entrance;
Stretching across the mouth of the ‘Horn’ entire;
From the Old City to the Galata Tower! *
The old city stands on seven hillocks, once
known as the ‘City of Seven Hills’;
And top of every rise, a temple, or a mosque
or a monument is seen, -
With its steeples, towers and minarets, the city
stands solemnly still!
Each building here has a story to tell;
In 1453 to the Ottoman Turks the city fell!
As I stood ruminating on one such high rise,
And saw the sun going down in the west;
The inlet waters appeared bathed in gold,
Glittering in the sun’s setting rays!
And at that moment I realized, as I looked at
the inlet nice and long,
How aptly it has been named, as the inlet of
‘The Golden Horn’!
-Raj Nandy
New Delhi
13 May 09
(*Galata Tower is located at the entrance of
the inlet- in the northern half of the city.
‘The Golden Horn’ waterway divides the
city of Istanbul into northern & southern
halves!)
Valparaiso
Chase the dog star
Over the sea
Home where my true love is waiting for me
Rope the south wind
Canvas the stars
Harness the moonlight
So she can safely go
Round the cape horn to valparaiso
Red the port light
Starboard the green
How will she know of the devils Ive seen
Cross in the sky, star of the sea
Under the moonlight, there she can safely go
Round the cape horn to valparaiso
Valparaiso
And every road I walked would take me down to the sea
With every broken promise in my sack
And every love would always send the ship of my heart
Over the rolling sea
If I should die
And waters my grave
Shell never know if Im damned or Im saved
See the ghost fly over the sea
Under the moonlight, there she can safely go
Round the cape horn to valparaiso
Valparaiso
Valparaiso
Valparaiso
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dreams surely are difficult, confusing, and not everything in them is brought to pass for mankind. For fleeting dreams have two gates: one is fashioned of horn and one of ivory. Those which pass through the one of sawn ivory are deceptive, bringing tidings which come to nought, but those which issue from the one of polished horn bring true results when a mortal sees them.
Shrimp Festival Pocorn Shrimp
popcorn.a clowns horn.we, the forlorn love our adjourned.me to mourn the morn, when a trash man blows his horn.the torn banner and shrimp festival cantor, over for now, be back in the summer.what a bummer i need to bleed, summer rolls and summer feeds.look at me.did you succeed in daily winters? or are you a lover, a shrimp festival beginner?
poem by Chris Bowen
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So Complicated
So complicated, so complicated
Just wanna blow my horn
So complicated, so complicated
Just wanna know the score
Are you telling me that everythings fine
When I cant even tie my shoes
Better get into a new frame of mind
When I dont have to think about the business no more
'cause I just wanna blow my horn
The telephone is ringing out
But it dont understand my blues
And how much longer will it take
Until they get the news
The weather man said it was good
He forecast it was truly great
So if you change your train of thought
You know it wont be late
Too complicated, too complicated
You know this crazy scene
Too complicated, too complicated
No one says what they mean
Are you telling me that everythings fine
When I cant even tie my shoes
Better get into a new frame of mind
When I dont have to think about the business no more
'cause I just wanna blow my horn.
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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