Related quotes: I'm so sorry dear Athene...

All Apologies to Athene

I'm so sorry dear Athene
lighting guiding
gentle musing queen
for my youth is rude
past acts oft've been obscene
my apologies for all I said I did not mean

Oh wait! do not leave Athene!
For I never meant to break Hermes' playful wings
locked in the tangled strangle hold
throws of emotive word wrestling

I do apologize oh Dear Athene
for all the dissonance I disgorged
in Orpheus's pure Pierian Spring
all the holes poked in Melpomene's self esteem
I never meant to make Thalia cry
It was wrong of me to so wantonly feed
my self destructive side
I need your love please
Oh Athene wait don't go!
send back to me my fair sweet Erato!

Oh Athene
although I tease Sapho
and quite a lot
henceforth
I give my solemn word to stop

The gift of beauty you've granted me
every stanza every verse
line and syllable of my poetry
forever grateful shall I be
I never dare take your voice for granted

I have a life long habit toying with human sensibility
as a child twas you whom sensed this in me
my authentic American egodacity!
Athene, you keep me humble
impel me forward making sure I stay strong
illuminating all I write
never judging editing or censoring
when what I write is wrong

Oh Athenaeum! Athenaeum!
Athenaeum established eternal upon the earth!
Glorious Age of Athenaeum!
Renaissance Awakening and Rebirth!

poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes

Whenever I see his finger nails, I thank God I don't have to look at his feet.

quote by Athene Seyler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Thought From Propertius

SHE might, so noble from head
To great shapely knees
The long flowing line,
Have walked to the altar
Through the holy images
At pallas Athene's Side,
Or been fit spoil for a centaur
Drunk with the unmixed wine.

poem by William Butler Yeats
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Paris and the Golden Apple

The best of possessions
I am holding in my hand-
The Golden Apple on which is written-
'For the most fairest'.

Strange is the way Fate works,
And I, a mortal, is chosen to select
Who among Hera, Athene and Venus
is the most fairest!

Hera said-
'Power is the ultimate goal of life,
every head must bow down before power-
with love or with fear-
The world stands before you trembling,
And you will govern it with iron rod.
Give me the apple and see
what I have to offer.'

Athene Said -
Knowledge is Power, and
Power is but the shadow of Wisdom-
always following like a faithful servent;
I will bless you with the light of wisdom
And elighten your soul from within
So that you can judge the past, present and future.

Venus smiled and said -
What drink can quench the thirst of the soul?
And can remove the hundred fevers of heart?
Can Wisdom or Power do this?
no, they don't.
Only Beauty can touch the soul softly
and can revive its vitality.
Then give me the apple and in return
Take the best of gifts the world can offer-
The most beautiful woman as your wife.

What a real dellima I am in!
Which on to chose, which one to avoid-
between Power, Wisdom and Beauty?
Power is a weapon,
But, Wisdom is the mind's eye,
Yet Beauty is the only pleasure
of the eye and soul.
So, Beauty I prefer to Power and Wisdom;
I will offer the apple to Venus
and will have the most beautiful woman as my wife.

Did Paris make a mistake
In chosing Beauty over Power and Wisdom?
Well, History holds proof of this-
Look at the burning Troy
and take lesson therefrom;
Let not one more Troy burn,
Let not one more Paris is born.

poem by Nazmul Haque
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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0005 Letter to a Younger Poet

Thanks for your letter. Though
you’ve caught me at a rather awkward time –
I’m going into surgery tomorrow – a rather
risky op; so I’ll try to put all the answers that I’ve got
into this one letter;
I hope you'll understand...

and that helps me to make my first point to you:
write as if you, too, may not live
beyond tomorrow – write as if
it’s the last thing that you’ll ever write –
give it everything you’ve got,
hold nothing back;

or better still – write as if
the world will end for everyone tomorrow:
write so that in their last hours, too, this
will make them feel, will make them know
we’ve faced life fully, faced it so complete
that death is relatively unimportant now…

write as if it were only yesterday
that, in an air crash, all your family –
parents, wife or husband, partner, children, and best friend,
had lost their lives; write as if,
were you not to write,
your heart would break forever, or you would go mad...

write as if you’re writing somewhere
where there’s no such thing around, as ink;
you’ll have to use your own blood in the pen,
so use it carefully; so red, so living,
look at it… so beautiful, so precious,
and so solemn – use it carefully, don’t spill a drop…

write as if you’re borrowing every word
from the very centre of the universe, where suns and gods are made;
and need thus to account for every word
with your whole life, no less; know that every word
must be given back, cleaner, stronger, brighter
with your own power, than when you borrowed it;

write as if every poet that ever lived
is leaning over your shoulder, so that you
can feel their breath upon your neck as they say
‘Tell them all that we would tell,
but cannot now; tell them all of this’…
this, now, is how you must deeply be and speak;

write as if you are the only being on earth
who can tell them this; as if tomorrow, if tomorrow comes,
you shall visit them every one, at home,
and look them in the eye; write as if
you love them more than they will ever know;
write as if you were offering to live their lives with them;

write as if you were a force of nature in yourself:
as if whatever earthquake, hurricane or flood might do,
whatever law or love may greatly do,
whatever gods or men can speak, in fullest force,
this you may do, because the sound of poetry is such;
yes, write ‘as if’ – but know you really write ‘because’…

write as if – no, write because –
you know that only poetry can tell
all, that must be told, and must be known;
and as all hearts melt in the heat of your own love,
be in no doubt – and see that all are in no doubt too –
that life was never, never more serious,
never more glorious, than it is right now;

write all this.

poem by Michael Shepherd
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It's Not Yet Over

A bleeding heart hits the page
The deep red stain sinks through
The soft sent of burning sage
Signals the death of you
But come to life my dear friend
It's not your time to go
You may think this is the end
But I will not believe it is so
So come to life again today
The light my just be near
Fight your way through the fray
And do not fight the tears
The pain you feel is true I know
But loss is not always forever
Though your thrown to and fro
I refuse to cause this sever
My dear friend stay here with me
The eternal night has not yet come
My dear friend just wait and see
We can make it if we run

She may be gone for now
But wait and see
Do not make yet, your final bow
She may yet think 'You and me'
Give her the time you took yourself
All the confusion not yet clear
Put your pain and fear upon the shelf
And tell her how you'ld hold her dear
I write this for you my friend
For I know your pain
I write this for you my friend
In hopes that you come through again.

poem by John Dillenger II
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Europa Een

Europa -jij stier
zonder ballen-
ooit zo fier,
laat Athene vallen
als een deerne
van te lichte zeden.
Want ooit door Zeus
ontvoerd bereden
wordt ze nu klassiek
Oudipeus bestreden
met je eigen liefde
voor ontkenning.
Wat betekent
Demokratie ook al weer
als men verrekend
heeft laat men de eer,
en heer Tyrannus
met zijn zweepje
knallen, Oh Europa
jij stier zonder.....

poem by Madrason writer
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Take Back the Virgin Page

Written on Returning a Blank Book

Take back the virgin page,
White and unwritten still;
Some hand, more calm and sage,
The leaf must fill.
Thoughts come, as pure as light
Pure as even you require;
But, oh! each word I write
Love turns to fire.

Yet let me keep the book:
Oft shall my heart renew,
When on its leaves I look,
Dear thoughts of you.
Like you, 'tis fair and bright;
Like you, too bright and fair
To let wild passion write
One wrong wish there.

Haply, when from those eyes
Far, far away I roam,
Should calmer thoughts arise
Towards you and home;
Fancy may trace some line,
Worthy those eyes to meet,
Thoughts that not burn, but shine,
Pure, calm, and sweet.

And as, o'er ocean far,
Seamen their records keep,
Led by some hidden star
Through the cold deep;
So may the words I write
Tell through what storms I stray --
You still the unseen light,
Guiding my way.

poem by Thomas Moore
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At Ithaca

Over and back,
the long waves crawl
and track the sand with foam;
night darkens, and the sea
takes on that desperate tone
of dark that wives put on
when all their love is done.

Over and back,
the tangled thread falls slack,
over and up and on;
over and all is sewn;
now while I bind the end,
I wish some fiery friend
would sweep impetuously
these fingers from the loom.

My weary thoughts
play traitor to my soul,
just as the toil is over;
swift while the woof is whole,
turn now, my spirit, swift,
and tear the pattern there,
the flowers so deftly wrought,
the borders of sea blue,
the sea-blue coast of home.

The web was over-fair,
that web of pictures there,
enchantments that I thought
he had, that I had lost;
weaving his happiness
within the stitching frame,
weaving his fire and frame,
I thought my work was done,
I prayed that only one
of those that I had spurned
might stoop and conquer this
long waiting with a kiss.

But each time that I see
my work so beautifully
inwoven and would keep
the picture and the whole,
Athene steels my soul.
Slanting across my brain,
I see as shafts of rain
his chariot and his shafts,
I see the arrows fall,
I see the lord who moves
like Hector lord of love,
I see him matched with fair
bright rivals, and I see
those lesser rivals flee.

poem by Hilda Doolittle
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Sonnet

Oh, thou hadst been a wife for Shakspeare's self!
No head, save some world-genius, ought to rest
Above the treasures of that perfect breast,
Or nightly draw fresh light from those keen stars
Through which thy soul awes ours: yet thou art bound-
O waste of nature!-to a craven hound;
To shameless lust, and childish greed of pelf;
Athene to a Satyr: was that link
Forged by The Father's hand? Man's reason bars
The bans which God allowed.-Ay, so we think:
Forgetting, thou hadst weaker been, full blest,
Than thus made strong by suffering; and more great
In martyrdom, than throned as Caesar's mate.

Eversley, 1851.

poem by Charles Kingsley
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Isn't Poetry Great?

Poetry is great
poetry is fun
you can write
about anything
under the Sun.
It can be cathartic
and can save your day
you can write how you feel
if your unsure what to say.
Poetry can be serious
and can make you weep
but some poetry is boring
and can send you off to sleep.
But as long as you have a go
and you enjoy what you do
that's all that really matters
when you write a verse or two.
So long live poetry I say
may it always be here
but I've got to end this one
as my muse has run out, oh dear!

poem by Kevin Halls
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Katies Been Gone

(by j. r. robertson and r. manuel)
Katies been gone since the spring time;
She wrote one timen sent her love.
Katies been gone for such a long time now.
I wonder what kind of love shes thinkin of.
Dear katie,
If you can hear me,
I cant wait to have ya near me.
Oh, katie, since ya caught that bus,
Well, I just dont know how things are with us.
Im still here and youre out there.
Katie laughed when I said I was lonely.
She said, theres no need tfeel that way.
Katie said that I was her only one,
But then I wonder why she didnt wanna stay.
Dear katie, if Im the only one,
How much longer will you be gone?
Oh, katie, wont ya tell me straight:
How much longer do I have to wait?
Ill believe you,
But please come through.
I know its wrong to be apart this long;
You should be here, near me.
Katies been gone and now her face is slowly fading from my mind.
Shes gone to find some newer places,
Left the old life far behind.
Dear katie, dont ya miss your home?
I dont see why you had to roam.
Dear katie, since youve been away
I lose a little something every day
I need you here, but youre still out there.
Dear katie, please drop me a line,
Just write, love, to tell me youre fine.
Oh, katie, if you can hear me,
I just cant wait to have you near me.
I can only think
Where are you,
What ya do, may be theres someone new.

song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beautiful Lofty Things

BEAUTIFUL lofty things: O'Leary's noble head;
My father upon the Abbey stage, before him a raging crowd:
'This Land of Saints,' and then as the applause died out,
'Of plaster Saints'; his beautiful mischievous head thrown back.
Standish O'Grady supporting himself between the tables
Speaking to a drunken audience high nonsensical words;
Augusta Gregory seated at her great ormolu table,
Her eightieth winter approaching: 'Yesterday he threatened my life.
I told him that nightly from six to seven I sat at this table,
The blinds drawn up'; Maud Gonne at Howth station waiting a train,
Pallas Athene in that straight back and arrogant head:
All the Olympians; a thing never known again.

poem by William Butler Yeats
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Daria

She appeared upon my doorstep with eyes of radiance divine,
Athene herself may envy her from wisdoms palace in the sky.
She carried with her a portfolio of canvas cast splendour containing
Abstract figures entwined in shades of azure upon coconut
Skin fibres. Scenes from the Nepal sent shivers down my spine
As I lost myself in the picture she revealed through the blessing
Of her smile. Upon the garden we sat and conversed upon the
Subject of perversion when it comes to expressing emotion
Within the stroke. I spoke of music and of smoking as we
Joked long into the afternoon. Soon she was to leave for some
Far off desert trail, yet my soul shall never fail in recreating
That summers day and hearing echoes ever present of all we
Had to say. I pray to hear from the Goddess again, she of golden
Skin and of eyes as deep as the greatest veil of all abyss.
I told her of my painting and she asked to be shown my art
And so after gathering my works together I produced for her
A revelation of my soul, I wrote my address upon the back
Of the painting I gave to her as a gift for simply being there
And she walked into the distance as I turned to close the door.

poem by David Lacey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Careless Word

A WORD is ringing thro' my brain,
It was not meant to give me pain;
It had no tone to bid it stay,
When other things had past away;
It had no meaning more than all
Which in an idle hour fall:
It was when first the sound I heard
A lightly uttered, careless word.

That word--oh! it doth haunt me now,
In scenes of joy, in scenes of woe;
By night, by day, in sun or shade,
With the half smile that gently played
Reproachfully, and gave the sound
Eternal power thro' life to wound.
There is no voice I ever heard,
So deeply fix'd as that one word.

When in the laughing crowd some tone,
Like those whose joyous sound is gone,
Strikes on my ear, I shrink--for then
The careless word comes back again.
When all alone I sit and gaze
Upon the cheerful home-fire blaze,
Lo! freshly as when first 'twas heard,
Returns that lightly uttered word.

When dreams bring back the days of old;
With all that wishes could not hold;
And from my feverish couch I start
To press a shadow to my heart--
Amid its beating echoes, clear
That little word I seem to hear:
In vain I say, while it is heard,
Why weep?--'twas but a foolish word.

It comes--and with it come the tears,
The hopes, the joys of former years;
Forgotten smiles, forgotten looks,
Thick as dead leaves on autumn brooks,
And all as joyless, though they were
The brightest things life's spring could share.
Oh! would to God I ne'er had heard
That lightly uttered, careless word!

It was the first, the only one
Of those which lips for ever gone
Breathed in their love--which had for me
Rebuke of harshness at my glee:
And if those lips were here to say,
'Beloved, let it pass away,'
Ah! then, perchance--but I have heard
The last dear tone--the careless word!

Oh! ye who, meeting, sigh to part,
Whose words are treasures to some heart,
Deal gently, ere the dark days come,
When earth hath but for one a home;
Lest, musing o'er the past, like me,
They feel their hearts wrung bitterly,
And, heeding not what else they heard,
Dwell weeping on a careless word.

poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
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A Little Bit

Im not the kind of girl to sit out on sidelines
The kind of girl who doesnt say it straight from her mind
Youre gonna know all that Im feeling on the inside
I aint into games, I dont wanna waste
Any time and all the energy we could spend
Being together boy forever youre my best friend
Got a little problem that I cant mend
You been taking me for granted you
I dont wanna walk away from what we have, and you know it
Im not telling you all of this to make you mad
Its not about whos right or wrong
Its not about whos weak or strong
Its about what I need to make this last
A little more time, a little less wait
A little more heart, a little less break
Simple and true, what they say
A little bit goes a long way
A little less talk, a little more do
A little more me, a little less you
Baby at the end of the day
A little bit goes a long way
Dont wanna end up in a tricky situation
So Im giving you my every indication
We can work it out together stop the tension
Try to understand, baby where I stand
I love you and Im trying to be gentle
So let me break it down for you and make it simple
(I gave my heart so you know whats essential)
That you show a little love for me
I dont wanna walk away or let you go, and you know it
Im not telling you all of this to make you sad
Its not about the tears we cry
Its about how hard we try
To give a little more and see the other side
A little more time, a little less wait
A little more heart, a little less break
Simple and true, what they say
A little bit goes a long way
A little less talk, a little more do
A little more me, a little less you
Baby at the end of the day
A little bit goes a long way
And it hurts me, cause I care and Im telling you why
Im unhappy so if you love me
A little bit is not that much to ask to make things right
Oh yeah, oh yeah, a little bit goes a long, long way
A little more time, a little less wait
A little more heart, a little less break
Simple and true, what they say
A little bit goes a long way
A little less talk, a little more do
A little more me, a little less you
Baby at the end of the day
A little bit goes a loong way

song performed by by Jessica Simpson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My All / Stay Awhile (So So Def Remix Without Rap)

I'm thinking of you
in my sleepless solitude tonight.
If it's wrong to love you,
then my heart just won't let me be right,
cos I've drowned in you and I won't pull
through without you by my side
chorus:I give my all to have just one more night with you
I'd risk my life to feel your body next to mine
cos I can't go on living in the memory of our song
I give my all for your love tonight.
Put your lovin' arms around me boy,hold me like I was
a cuddly toy,let me feel that warmth of your embrace
don't let go,cos there could be no sader sight to see
then if we're meant to miss this oppurtunity
so send me up a signal and I catch your line
if there's no time you know it's up to you
Bridge: So won't you stay a little while(stay),stay a little while child
stay a little while(stay),stay a little while child
Rap:
Why don't you stay a little while ,stay a little while child
then let put love to the limit and life to the edge
got only one request of you
Stay a while............
Chorus:

song performed by by Mariah Carey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Alankar(Decor) -76

Bhaji-(Chain Verse)

Chain Verse is composed in one of three ways:

1 Chain Verse is composed
with the last word or syllable of one line repeated
in the beginning of the next line.

2 Chain Verse can be stanzaic, most often written in any number of quatrains
but any stanza form will do, linked by repeating the last word of a stanza
as the first word of the next stanza.
The repetition of a word from one Verse or stanza to the next creates a chain-like link.
usually rhymed, linking rhyme as well as alternate rhyme.
often syllabic, alternating longer-shorter lines.
One example is alternating 8-7-8-7 syllables the other is alternating 6-5-6-5 syllables per line.

3 Chain Verse can be written
with the last line of the stanza repeated
as the first line of the next stanza.
----

Bhaji-(Chain Verse-6-5-6-5 syllables
With linking rhyme only)

I found a guava plant
Silent in a nook
Along my garden stroll
On a rainy day

Day was cool in showers
No wonder taste hyped
Picked some fresh guava leaves
Wishing for bhajis

Bhajis are many types
Of veggies and leaves
Can make tasty bhajis
Guava leaves too used

Used are gram and rice flours
With salt and chilli
Mixed in are leafy bits
And soda a dash

Dashing batter ready
When mixed with water
The center line Strung out
Dipped leaves get coated

Coated leaves then deep fried
Out from deep hot oil
Season's snack was ready
Why wait, munch said I

poem by Indira Renganathan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Oh Darling, My Love

Oh darling how I love you so, from the day so old to the moonlights glow, you can into my life like a theft in the night, to discover your beauty, oh was a wonderful site. Your love is like the essence of sweetness on which I lay my head, until the glorious day when you join me in my bed. Oh darling our love is like a door which leads to our walkway of love forever more. As I wait and wait for our wonderful greeting I realized that love finally has its own meeting, to full us with the joy that comes from each other, Oh Lord such a gracious gift for one another. Oh darling how our love shines so bright to the verge where it lightens the hearts of men threw the day and night, oh darling never leave me so, for like ying and yang our love will draw us back together forever more. Oh darling My Love let nothing tear us apart for I know were meant to be, to our end from our start, oh darling my love, oh how I love you so, because our love is now eternal forever more.

poem by Augustus Gatlin
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Draxy's Hymn

I cannot think but God must know
About the thing I long for so;
I know He is so good, so kind,
I cannot think but He will find
Some way to help, some way to show
Me to the thing I long for so.

I stretch my hand-it lies so near:
It looks so sweet, it looks so dear.
'Dear Lord,' I pray, 'Oh, let me know
If it is wrong to want it so?'
He only smiles-He does not speak:
My heart grows weaker and more weak,
With looking at the thing so dear,
Which lies so far, and yet so near.

Now, Lord, I leave at thy loved feet
This thing which looks so near, so sweet;
I will not seek, I will not long-
almost fear I have been wrong.
I'll go, and work the harder, Lord,
And wait till by some loud, clear word
Thou callest me to thy loved feet,
To take this thing so dear, so sweet.

poem by Helen Hunt Jackson
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Don't Leave Me

Don't leave me
I have to wait for you to come back
I will miss you too much
When you leave me I be depression

Don't leave me
You are my angel
Please stay and tell me whatever I did wrong or say and I'm sorry
You make me not want to eat or sleep if you leave me

Don't leave me
What will I do without you
Everyday not seeing you anymore will make me sad and
Think it all my fault if you leave me
You are the only one for me