Related quotes: Ye unblessed being Born in...

John Keats (A bright star)

Ye unblessed being
Born in despair
Afore blooming fully
Was eclipsed by death cruelly

Though had a little past in poesy Art
Yet Great and Grand, ceased to be lost
Ah! Grief came to you as luxury
Indeed beauty dwells with melancholy

You're wrong when you stated
'My name was write in water'
Behold! Like a Polar Star at night
Make sensations dark illuminated

A Dime-god of a sensuous claim
Bereaved, bereft and lost
Words those you sweetly glossed
Mistook by and harshly exclaim

Your sweetly tuned phrases
Are symbol of high Romance
That brings every soul in trance
And halt a thousand gazes

An ardent lover and a true Romantic
Like a Sappho you're marked as sensuous
But thy lyrics sweets are more precious
Enough to make tender hearts frantic

poem by Gulsher john
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Related quotes

That elusive perfect poem

Some day I’ll write one…
That won’t garner great numbers
Yet will linger in hearts…and
Rest sweetly on one’s lips

A poem that readers
will want to come back to
A poem that readers will savor
Tasting, …In long, sensuous sips

A poem that warms one’s cockles
Makes one lean back and smile
Makes one glad to have read it
To enjoy my writing…for a while

Maybe place it in their favorites
Hopefully, at least… keep in their hearts
Repeat to themselves favorite phrases
All my descriptive and alliterative parts

Better to have written
Just that one special poem
That could arouse great emotion
Than to write many… that arouse it in none

I have not yet accomplished it
And by me, this feat may ne’er be done
The perfect poem yet eludes me…
Yet I hope… some day I’ll write one

poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Ode to Romantic Norse Language

The Romantic Norse Language

When my Norse sweetheart
Gazes into my eyes
Utters sweet Viking phrases
With soft sibilant sighs

As when she murmurs
“Swen, you’re my
only strukanoodlefleerten
Ah, such endearing phrases
Make my spirits rise

Milky complexion
and silken blonde hair
Occasion many admirers
To stop and stare

Melting my heart With a purr like a cat
Says sweetly, “Swen,
do these lederhosen
Make my kanordeyshtuckens look fat? ”

Of all languages that exist
One has to love the Nordic beauty
As in this final phrase of farewell
May your marterpfleeger be verschtookinooty

poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Sensuous Whisper

Ive seen you, I saw you, I see you
Without little notice, if any at all
Of you knowing me watchin you
You walking, you talking, you smiling
You styling in everything your body wears
And thats not just a point of view
Theyre painting, theyre ranting, theyre raving
About miss lovely got it going on
From head down to her toes
And no one knows better than I know
Cause Ive been listening to the spirit of
Your body, mind and soul
Its a sensuous whisper
That makes my body weak
Its that sensuous whisper
Thats sweeter than the sweetest sweet
Its that sensuous whisper
That makes my psyche say
Ooh we, ooh wee, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we
Can feel you, can smell you, can taste you
Though my senses never had the pleasure of
That lovely wonderment
But I start to shaking, I shiver, to think that little sparkle in your eye
Means you are giving me some kind of hint
Im ready, Im willing, Im able
In fact those words are at the tip of my tongue
Eagerly waiting for me to say
Then you smile and whisper how are you?
But when I move my lips and try to speak the words just go away
Its a sensuous whisper
That makes my body weak
Its that sensuous whisper
Thats sweeter than the sweetest sweet
Its that sensuous whisper
That makes my psyche say
Ooh wee, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we
Its that sensuous whisper thats got me trippin out
Its that sensuous whisper
That I dont wanna do without
Its that sensuous whisper
That makes me want to shout
Ooh we, ooh wee, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we
I dont even care how long it takes
As long as I have you lying next to me
Cause to wait forever and a day
Is a small price to pay if its you Im getting
If its you Im getting, Im not quitting
And that is how Im living
Im clinging, not dreaming, but scheming
With my nose against the grind and both my eyes focused upon the prize
I think it, I trust it, I know it
Your love that Ive longed for is gonna be mine
Good things do come in time
Im right on the rythm youre givin
But this is more than giving up some casual mental telepathy
The music, the candles, the champagne and all thats needed
Is one thing to give it authenticity
Its a sensuous whisper
That makes my body weak
Its that sensuous whisper thats sweeter than the sweetest sweet
Its that sensuous whisper
That makes my psyche say
Ooh wee, ooh wee, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we
Its that sensuous whisper
Thats got me trippin out
Its that sensuous whisper
That I dont wanna do without
Its that sensuous whisper
That makes me want to shout
Ooh we, ooh wee, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we
Its a sensuous whisper
That makes my body rock
Its that sensuous whisper
That makes me beg baby dont ever stop
Its that sensuous whisper
That always get me hot, baby
Ooh wee, ooh wee, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we
Its that sensuous whisper
That makes me feel alright
Its that sensuous whisper
That keep me wanting you morning, noon and every single night
Its that sensuous whisper
Dont want you out of my sight, baby
Ooh we, ooh wee, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we
Its that sensuous whisper (repeat)

song performed by by Stevie Wonder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Are You Really a True Romantic?

I wonder, where have all the True Romantics gone? ... there are, but few
still flowering... still spinning dreams, still weaving words of love so true.
For, when l read a book, or watch a movie... perhaps, read a line
or two of poetry... l know that, somewhere in there, l will find
some bitter, shadowy undertone... perhaps, to spice some ailing plot?
True feelings, it may well reflect...
but True Romantic? ...
l think not.

The True Romantic is a gentle soul... a Literary Unicorn,
existing in a Golden Land, from where the sweet, soft dreams are born;
all spun from strands of pure romance... this bright-eyed hope of love, so fair;
no shadows here, to spoil the magic woven from the heart, with care.
The Unicorn is, but a dream... in myth, beyond our sight... far lost;
but, lose the True Romantic... lose the dream;
is this, then worth the cost?

Perhaps, it is that we have wandered from the path, in modern days;
perhaps, it is not now correct... politically, to trace the ways
the great Romantics, down the ages weaved their bright and shining dreams,
yet, there was sadness... there was yearning in their works...
but, now.... it seems
that all emotions... good or bad, must be displayed... the darker side;
the negativity of love... when lost, betrayed...
or just, denied.

So, is this some analysis... some facet of psychology
the author feels a need to show?
for it is not quite poetry,
or writing in the manner of the True Romantic... can't they see
the True Romantic's dream just cannot mix with grim reality?
As different as chalk and cheese; a world apart... a different thing
from the tapestry of dreaming that the True Romantic spins.

It is certain, that this rhyme will ruffle feathers far and wide...
but, the words therein contain the truth... it cannot be denied.
When seeking out the True Romantic's world, so many paths unfold
a promise of this Golden Land; yet seven in ten are dead and cold;
leading nowhere, but, to broken hearts... and sweet dreams, cruelly blighted...
the True Romantics work must leave imaginations
quite delighted.

Perhaps the authors of today, beset by cultural platitudes;
the realists... the avant garde... the modernistic attitudes,
have somehow, lost their bright-eyed innocence...
the touchstone of Romance;
if, this is so; then sad to say... they really do not stand a chance
of ever really dreaming Golden dreams... as True Romantics do...
Will the tiny flame still flicker in the dark?
l do hope so.

poem by Dream Weaver
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

To J. S.

The wind, that beats the mountain, blows
More softly round the open wold,
And gently comes the world to those
That are cast in gentle mould.
And me this knowledge bolder made,
Or else I had not dare to flow
In these words toward you, and invade
Even with a verse your holy woe.
'Tis strange that those we lean on most,
Those in whose laps our limbs are nursed,
Fall into shadow, soonest lost:
Those we love first are taken first.

God gives us love. Something to love
He lends us; but, when love is grown
To ripeness, that on which it throve
Falls off, and love is left alone.

This is the curse of time. Alas!
In grief I am not all unlearn'd;
Once thro' mine own doors Death did pass;
One went, who never hath return'd.

He will not smile--not speak to me
Once more. Two years his chair is seen
Empty before us. That was he
Without whose life I had not been.

Your loss is rarer; for this star
Rose with you thro' a little arc
Of heaven, nor having wander'd far
Shot on the sudden into dark.

I knew your brother: his mute dust
I honour and his living worth:
A man more pure and bold and just
Was never born into the earth.

I have not look'd upon you nigh,
Since that dear soul hath fall'n asleep.
Great nature is more wise than I:
I will not tell you not to weep.

And tho' mine own eyes fill with dew,
Drawn from the spirit thro' the brain,
I will not even preach to you,
"Weep, weeping dulls the inward pain."

Let Grief be her own mistress still.
She loveth her own anguish deep
More than much pleasure. Let her will
Be done--to weep or not to weep.

I will not say "God's ordinance
Of death is blown in every wind;"
For that is not a common chance
That takes away a noble mind.

His memory long will live alone
In all our hearts, as mournful light
That broods above the fallen sun,
And dwells in heaven half the night.

Vain solace! Memory standing near
Cast down her eyes, and in her throat
Her voice seem'd distant, and a tear
Dropt on the letters as I wrote.

I wrote I know not what. In truth,
How should I soothe you anyway,
Who miss the brother of your youth?
Yet something I did wish to say:

For he too was a friend to me:
Both are my friends, and my true breast
Bleedeth for both: yet it may be
That only silence suiteth best.

Words weaker than your grief would make
Grief more. 'Twere better I should cease;
Although myself could almost take
The place of him that sleeps in peace.

Sleep sweetly, tender heart, in peace;
Sleep, holy spirit, blessed soul,
While the stars burn, the moons increase,
And the great ages onward roll.

Sleep till the end, true soul and sweet.
Nothing comes to thee new or strange,
Sleep full of rest from head to feet:
Lie still, dry dust, secure of change.

poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Romance Seconds Me, Where Ever I Go by Ray Subrata

In your old age you too are trailed romantic,
Adolescent, manhood, triangle, -the tricks.
Love in any form is romance,
It is either an intoxication or trance.
When romance says you good bye,
…Love from your life by itself flies..

When I write a poem, -I cry,
I had tried, I failed, I try.
You beauty your hello lips,
Mellow voice, willowing-cave,
Youthful shape, flash in my tape,

When I paint, -the Eye –romance,
The eternity peeps, and dances,
I say, simply, it is a romance.

Shakespeare for the Dark Lady,
Turned romantic and shady,
Tagore, -swam in Labana’s lake,
He, you, and me, assume fake,
A little bio-scope-romantic sake.

Is my birth for some One’s romance,
Between Time and Nature, -a romantic play,
Am I one of Every man’s humor?
With each change of transient –clay.

My God is romance incarnate,
And the Fate I tackle is so,
Romance seconds me where ever I go.

poem by Ray Subrata Ray
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Give Me Romance Everytime

Maybe a little romance is needed
Lightening our days in all this grey
To place a smile on our faces

You can't have too much romance
In a life that's filled with sadness
Making us laugh with pleasure

Give me romance to dazzle me
To make my heart sing out loud
And make me feel I'm alive

Bring on the romance to me
It's welcome in a soul of tears
Appreciated from this coldness

Give me romantic words and deeds
So pleasing to my eyes and ears
Make me happy for a little while

Give me romance everytime
To make me blush and smile
Instead of all these teasing words

rewrite of poem lost in the ether lol but still on document.....Fi

poem by Fiona Davidson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

A tenuous Tenor

He sang a tenor’s part-

No more a tenor really

Though aging cords may gamely try

It was disaster- nearly.

He lost the lyric line.

Poor fellow –must be blasted

Too much North Fork wine

Or maybe he’s just past it.

A singer lost for words

is clearly up against it.

A staircase that’s collapsing

can only be descended.

Some forty years or more have past

Since he sang at their Wedding

A rose cheeked boy with strong clear tones

He was, then, worth the hearing.

With time his talent vanishes

He cannot compensate

For lyrics he’s forgotten

And notes he cannot make.

His hopes to leave on a better note

Then disappeared completely,

Only a swan- at its last-

can be sure to sing more sweetly.

poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Sonnet # 20

Thy velvet hair shines like the purest gold
Youe soft liquid eyes be a joy to see
Thy beauty is like a priceless portrait
You are the inspiration this poet would ever need
To write a thousand words upon a thousand lines
Flowing verse in a romantic theme
All dedicated to the thought of you
From a passion you brought to life in me
What dreams could be when one thinks of thee
Maybe? romance fill'd fairy tales
Where true love would always reign supreme
And a knight's love for thee would never fail
Though I have only seen thee but twice
Thy beauty twas enough to enflame my soul to write

poem by John A. Hancock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Despair Is Darkness

DESPAIR IS DARKNESS

Despair is darkness-
Despair is death inside and death in the world and death in one’s own sad soul-
Despair is no way out -
Despair is the place where one is forever stuck -
Despair is the realization that one has done what one could – and one is not going anywhere else-
Despair is the admission of failure-
Despair is no sign of help anywhere around-
Despair is so much lost-
Despair is one‘s life is over-
Despair is regret-
Despair is the sense that one will never have the time to have another chance -
Despair is ‘it’s finished’-
Despair is no way out-
Despair is going down and more down and more dark and more afraid all the time -
Despair is the scream which hurts and does not stop the hurting -
Despair is the understanding that even Death will not save one -
Despair is that the pain will never end-not even with death.
Despair is no way out again and again and again- without end.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Romance Seconds Me, Where Ever I Go

In your old age you too are trailed romantic,
Adolescent, manhood, triangle, -the tricks .
Love in any form is romance,
It is either an intoxication or trance.
When romance says you good bye,
...Love from your life by itself flies..

When I write a poem, -I cry,
I had tried, I failed, I try.
You Beauty, -your hello lips,
Mellow voice, willowing-cave,
Youthful shape, flash in my rib ,

When I paint, -the Eye –romance,
The eternity peeps, and dances,
I say, simply, it is and I a romantic.

Shakespeare for the Dark Lady,
Turned romantic and shady,
Tagore, -swam in Labana’s lake,
He, you, and me, assumed fake,
Live and let live to bake romance’s cake
A little bioscope-romantic sake.

Is my birth for some One’s romance,
Between Time and Nature, -a romantic play,
Am I one of Every man’s humor?
With each change of transient –clay.

Satan’s virtue made Eve, romantic,
Adam’s test of forbidden fruit,
In our life’s flow installed romantic root.

Could I live without my mother,
Whose concern by virtue is romantic,
And with my darling oblivious,
My untold hang, whispers unheard song,
In her charmed magic, to saturate the prong.

My God is romance incarnate,
And the Fate I tackle is so,
Romance seconds me where ever I go

poem by Ray Subrata Ray
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Romance in the Sun

Feminine...the 'dreamy' kind
every man adores her,
beautiful in summer sun
when Mr. Romance calls her.

He sings nostalgic melodies
introduced discreetly,
mellow notes to melt the heart
Bliss, when rendered sweetly.

He sends white lilies to her room
to celebrate each new occasion;
her boudoir's filled with fresh perfume
and sensuous adoration.

Golden rings upon her finger
give hope of many years to come
and unforgettable memories linger
of romance in the summer sun.

poem by Joyce Hemsley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!