The Poetry Of Coleridge
A brook glancing under green leaves, self-delighting, exulting,
And full of a gurgling melody ever renewed -
Renewed thro' all changes of Heaven, unceasing in sunlight,
Unceasing in moonlight, but hushed in the beams of the holier orb.
poem by George Meredith
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Poetry
THE POETRY OF CHAUCER
Grey with all honours of age! but fresh-featured and ruddy
As dawn when the drowsy farm-yard has thrice heard Chaunticlere.
Tender to tearfulness-childlike, and manly, and motherly;
Here beats true English blood richest joyance on sweet English ground.
THE POETRY OF SPENSER
Lakes where the sunsheen is mystic with splendour and softness;
Vales where sweet life is all Summer with golden romance:
Forests that glimmer with twilight round revel-bright palaces;
Here in our May-blood we wander, careering 'mongst ladies and knights.
THE POETRY OF SHAKESPEARE
Picture some Isle smiling green 'mid the white-foaming ocean; -
Full of old woods, leafy wisdoms, and frolicsome fays;
Passions and pageants; sweet love singing bird-like above it;
Life in all shapes, aims, and fates, is there warm'd by one great human heart.
THE POETRY OF MILTON
Like to some deep-chested organ whose grand inspiration,
Serenely majestic in utterance, lofty and calm,
Interprets to mortals with melody great as its burthen
The mystical harmonies chiming for ever throughout the bright spheres.
THE POETRY OF SOUTHEY
Keen as an eagle whose flight towards the dim empyrean
Fearless of toil or fatigue ever royally wends!
Vast in the cloud-coloured robes of the balm-breathing Orient
Lo! the grand Epic advances, unfolding the humanest truth.
THE POETRY OF COLERIDGE
A brook glancing under green leaves, self-delighting, exulting,
And full of a gurgling melody ever renewed -
Renewed thro' all changes of Heaven, unceasing in sunlight,
Unceasing in moonlight, but hushed in the beams of the holier orb.
THE POETRY OF SHELLEY
See'st thou a Skylark whose glistening winglets ascending
Quiver like pulses beneath the melodious dawn?
Deep in the heart-yearning distance of heaven it flutters -
Wisdom and beauty and love are the treasures it brings down at eve.
THE POETRY OF WORDSWORTH
A breath of the mountains, fresh born in the regions majestic,
That look with their eye-daring summits deep into the sky.
The voice of great Nature; sublime with her lofty conceptions,
Yet earnest and simple as any sweet child of the green lowly vale.
THE POETRY OF KEATS
The song of a nightingale sent thro' a slumbrous valley,
Low-lidded with twilight, and tranced with the dolorous sound,
Tranced with a tender enchantment; the yearning of passion
That wins immortality even while panting delirious with death.
poem by George Meredith
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Renewal
Renewed from hatred
that strangulates the flow of love.
Renewed from anger
that bulldozes a mountain of understanding.
Renewed from pain
that shatters the windows of tomorrows.
Renewed from fear
that makes all days to dark nights.
Renewed from despair
that drowns the promise of hope.
Renew us, O Lord, from the malady
of hatred, anger, pain,
fear and despair.
And restore us to the bountiful promise
of strength, joy, faith and service
from the heart of Jesus.
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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By reading the scriptures I am so renewed that all nature seems renewed around me and with me. The sky seems to be a pure, a cooler blue, the trees a deeper green. The whole world is charged with the glory of God and I feel fire and music under my feet.
quote by Thomas Merton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Unceasing Rain
Unceasing is the rain, all of pain
And suffering, and mild anger;
Its cold nature is choice
And lasting effects are present
In the dropping rain.
Unceasing is the rain, always some rain
Is absent some of the day,
Opening a sacred time, of special
Leaning, a laugh is heard sometimes.
The showers are sending heavenly sights
Altogether heavenly, how awesome!
poem by Naveed Akram
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What Is 'It' That Keeps This
Azure is the color of the clear sky.
And I wonder what in the atmosphere,
Keeps it blue like this...
And when the Sun comes to set,
The blue leaves on the horizon...
With magnificent hues,
That takes away breaths.
And when the moon is full,
At night with stars twinkling bright...
A quietness seems to hush,
All that the Sun rises to rush to us...
At dawn to bring daylight,
Silently with a gentle touch.
Many observing in the morning,
Have come to love so much this touch!
What is 'it' that keeps this,
So fresh and renewed?
What is 'it' that keeps this,
As if to gift me and you!
Azure is the color of the clear sky.
And I wonder what in the atmosphere,
Keeps it blue like this...
And when the Sun comes to set,
The blue leaves on the horizon...
With magnificent hues,
That takes away breaths.
What is 'it' that keeps this,
So fresh and renewed?
What is 'it' that keeps this,
As if to gift me and you!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Don't Tear America Down!
Those who thinks America is finished;
Think again. Feeling dismayed that
You are not leaping ahead like before?
It is not only in America; worldwide, indeed.
America is not finished; it will be there,
Even in the dark hours of economic meltdown.
America will be there, for Americans are
Too proud, too strong willed to let
Their country go to pieces.
As their motto says:
'O Say Can You See! '
And, 'God Bless America,
Land That They Love! '
Americans truly loves America.
So, think not of a doom America
Think of a America of renewed hope,
Renewed love, and renewed faith,
For, if unbetold to you before,
God really loves America
poem by Winston Harding
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The world is full of women blindsided by the unceasing demands of motherhood, still flabbergasted by how a job can be terrific and torturous.
quote by Anna Quindlen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The world is full of women blindsided by the unceasing demands of motherhood, still flabbergasted by how a job can be terrific and torturous.
quote by Anna Quindlen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Moonlight And Sunlight
Moonlight and sunlight
enhance our world
with a cosy glow.
Moonlight is for lovers
lighting their way
down leafy lover’s lanes.
Sunlight is for everyone
warming every soul
with a smile of contentment.
Moonlight is drawn by poets
to fill our hearts with romance
when there is a chill in the air.
Sunlight takes our gloom away
spinning a web of warmth
making us smile again.
Moonlight and sunlight
enchant us with their beauty
as each season comes and goes.
16 March 2011
poem by David Harris
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Spring
Spring is apparent
the green returns to the trees
nature is renewed.
poem by Heather Burns
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Mindless Murmur Of A Babbling Brook
The mindless murmur of a babbling brook
Is the telling of it’s story
A story that has no beginning
And flows on without end
It dances…It sparkles
All the while telling it’s tale
E’en when there’s no one to listen
Not family…nor friend
Dabbling and babbling in sprinkles and splashes
Chortling away in mad mischievous delight
Then off to the sea it disdainfully dashes
Spreading rumors and humors into day and night
It gathers in pools, settles in sinks
Yet meanders off distractedly, to left and right
It swells fat and sassy, then as capriciously shrinks
Tinkling musically away into darkness and light
It’s said “there’s method in madness”
The brook knows not…of either one
Not method…not madness…nor glee or sadness
Only capricious, communion with moon and sun
Does the constant, mindless babble
Of it’s unceasing, senseless rant
Give substance to…that it is able
To form cogent thought…or that it can’t?
Could it be that it’s saying, in a moss moistened drawl
In watery discourse, all the while liquid and lazy
“Tis not this brook that is mindless at all
Tis Humanity that’s truly crazy! ! ”
poem by David Whalen
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Art is the unceasing effort to compete with the beauty of flowers - and never succeeding.
quote by Gian Carlo Menotti
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Baptism
Rain falls
peaceful, unceasing
filling brimful
the bright day.
Liquid shimmer
glowing ocean
softly silting soil
like love
filling full an empty soul,
O cleanse me
as, trembling,
sinful, I walk into
your sacred font.
poem by Steven Federle
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Queensland Opal
Opal, little opal, with the red fire glancing,
Set my blood a-spinning, set my pulse a-stir,
Strike the harp of memory, set my dull heart dancing
Southward to the Sunny Land and the love of Her!
Opal, shining opal, let them call you luckless jewel,
Let them curse or let them covet, you are still my heart's desire,
You that robbed the sun and moon and green earth for fuel
To gather to your milky breast and fill your veins with fire!
Green of fluttering gum-leaves above dim water-courses,
Red of rolling dust-clouds, blue of summer skies,
Flash of flints afire beneath the hoofs of racing horses,
Sunlight and moonlight and light of lovers' eyes
Pink clasping hands amid a Southern summer gloaming,
Green of August grasses, white of dew-sprung pearls,
Grey of winging wild geese into the Sunset homing,
Twined with all the kisses of a Queen of Queensland girls!
poem by William Henry Ogilvie
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Only If It Is Advantageous
Only if it is advantageous,
Will a renewed interest shown...
In someone ignored,
Be done!
Only when an attention has been given,
Will those even notice...
Something or someone under their noses,
Has achieved some degree of notoriety!
And 'shock' not jealousy,
Is the first impression expressed.
And it isn't as if,
What one does has changed at all.
It's the idea that someone else places a value,
On what some has labelled,
Crap, trash or just junk!
And that value is discovered to have merit!
To bring a benefit to not one but to all!
More support would have been shown.
IF a warning of this had been previously known!
~Who knew...
That someone slated for greatness,
Was the subject of irritation placed?
And daily disgraced...
But took it?
Is it too late to change our minds,
And show a deep love and loyalty? ~
Only if it is advantageous,
Will a renewed interest shown...
In someone ignored,
Be done!
And that someone ignored...
May be someone's brother, cousin,
Sister, mother, daugther, father or son...
That had been told more than once,
They should do something else...
Since they are wasting time doing nothing!
At least nothing that is getting legitimately done.
Nothing that is making an impression on anyone!
'Ooooo...
How low can nasty go? '
~Who knew...
That someone slated for greatness,
Was the subject of irritation placed?
And daily disgraced...
But took it?
Only if it is advantageous,
Will a renewed interest shown...
In someone ignored,
Be done! ~
And that someone who has been ignored...
Has not survived thriving under a rock!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Melody Of My Heart
my heart is on the rise
and fall
my heart's melody is as nice
than all
like the leaves
on the tree by the river
my heart is a melody
to the birds of love,
life and all that worth
as i walked the earth
with the melody
of my heart from then
and sang to my heart a melody
i explore an adventure
of the melody in my heart
and art a melody of my heart
with fingers dancing to the heart
my veins rain with melody of the heart
i feel the heart
in talk and melody
and that melody
is the melody
of my heart
my heart is a melody
to the words of a rhythm
its music from the heart
a melody of emotions,
feelings, love and death
...after all,
it is the melody of my heart
poem by Onalethuso Petruss Ntema
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Material loss can be made up through renewed labor, but the moral wrong which has been inflicted upon the conquered peoples, in the peace dictates, leaves a burning scar on the people's conscience.
quote by Hjalmar Schacht
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Forty Letters To A Woman – Third Letter –
You were the harpist
At the gate of heaven.
I was about crossing that gate
when we first met.
I never though,
felt, or captured your inner songs
that flew with the harp melody
until I left heaven from the other gate.
I never knew
that your were the first picture
and the last sound of heaven
until I left it.
What remains
now in
my deepest memories
an ancient question
- and that is
what I try to get rid of: -
What makes heaven
heaven?
is it a melody,
a woman's melody at the gate of heaven,
or the silent melody in a woman eyes?
poem by Atef Ayadi
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Only Socrates knew, after a lifetime of unceasing labor, that he was ignorant. Now every high-school student knows that. How did it become so easy?
quote by Allan Bloom
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Son (Kimo Poem)
When days have a down pour of Anxiety
Worries unceasing as rain
My son holds my hand... Hope.
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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