An Old nymph
Old nymph guarding your gracious mirror you may find
And by this taunting picture learn to dress your mind
None of your frowns can make a tender lover afraid
Soft looks of memory grace your unfortunate shade
And while your gaze at what your prime used to appear
Waning passion forbid; locking your tears
Like narcissus has a different fate to prove
Even your walk and your gait are out of your past moves
And my verse has not this powerful rhyme
That outlives marble and gilded monuments
Of kings and knights to let you shine in these contents
When lying beneath unswept tomb besmeared with sluttish time
For against death and other all oblivious enmity
It offers no pace forth where your praise can find room
Even in the eyes of all posterity
That wears and tares our world down to doom
So live temporally like a season flower
In the judgment that your generation rises
And die with this not to eternally dwell in lovers' eyes
With my verse in shallow river bed to rush never to tower
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Sonnet 55: Not marble, nor the gilded monuments
Not marble, nor the gilded monuments
Of princes shall outlive this powerful rhyme,
But you shall shine more bright in these contents
Than unswept stone besmeared with sluttish time.
When wasteful war shall statues overturn,
And broils root out the work of masonry,
Nor Mars his sword, nor war's quick fire shall burn
The living record of your memory.
'Gainst death and all-oblivious enmity
Shall you pace forth; your praise shall still find room
Even in the eyes of all posterity
That wear this world out to the ending doom.
So, till the judgment that yourself arise,
You live in this, and dwell in lovers' eyes.
poem by William Shakespeare
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Not marble nor the guilded monuments (Sonnet 55)
Not marble nor the gilded monuments
Of princes shall outlive this powerful rhyme;
But you shall shine more bright in these contents
Than unswept stone, besmear'd with sluttish time.
When wasteful war shall statues overturn,
And broils root out the work of masonry,
Nor Mars his sword nor war's quick fire shall burn
The living record of your memory.
'Gainst death and all-oblivious enmity
Shall you pace forth; your praise shall still find room,
Even in the eyes of all posterity
That wear this world out to the ending doom.
So, till the judgment that yourself arise,
You live in this, and dwell in lovers' eyes.
poem by William Shakespeare
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Past love
Is it you I keep thinking of, dreaming of still?
Should I feel like I do; shall I do like I feel?
I come to realize that I do miss your love and sooth
While I am not missing your harsh manners and capricious reproof
We ran our love; the golden largess of our praise
Till it was gone,
So it came; so it fell to the flower of cankered mal
It would not let it be as it was; sieged in fatal
It is not a word spoken or a gesture token,
Few words are said; silence is pure innocent guide
Nor even a look piercing of the sharp eyes
Nor a bend or a nod of the head,
But only a calm hush overwhelming the heart
That has too much to contemplate and to keep,
Only memories waking, running through the unsettled mind
That sleeps so light a sleep; if rests such a short.
There is no magic between us any more,
We meet; we behave; we react as other people do,
Your presence works no miracle for me
Does mine play any perfumed reminiscence to you?
Nothing will be changed now
After so many years all unshaken stand;
Like sluttish ware out tomb stones in grave yard
Life has not broken it with parting or panting tears;
Death will not alter it either,
My heart against you will never rebel;
My feelings in my heart do live on
Long after love past; they are in all my songs
When I am perished and gone.
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A walk in the park
I saw them walking in a park under bright summer day
She and him in a walk of lovers calm pray
He the man I might have grown to be
She my lover, I so yearn to live and love in rapture and glee
His hair was full in mane drawing light and people sight
Tall and handsome, an ora in stature and in height
Unlike me of insignificant form and small diminished frame
Shall I compare myself to him, I can make no claim
Yet His body was a thing grown thin stark,
Like as if hungry for love that never came;
His soul was frozen in the park so aimless and dark,
Unwarmed untouched forever by love's flame.
I felt my lover instantaneously look at him
And then turn suddenly to me –
Her eyes were magic to defy in grim
The unfortunate compare I dread; the man I shall never be.
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There will come
There will come upon the earth, calm spring time
When soft rains fall and raise the adores of wet ground
And flowers leap and bloom into their prime
As the swallows circle and bounce in vast meadows, shimmering sound
And no one will know of my time under the sun
And no one will reflect or contemplate of my days, not one
Not even one would mind, neither happy bird on a bough tree
That I have perished; erased diminished with no memory utterly
Come red black Robins and wear your feathery fire,
Whistling your whims on a low summer wind stirring fence-wire
And fat oily frogs in a garden pool, sing your rhythm all night
And tree heavy with late season foliage play the wind that turn you white
The world will go on as we do when an acquaintance dies
We hurry to burry and move as if it never concerns our fates; blinding our eyes
Oh that first Spring after death, herself when she wakes at dawn
Minding her course would scarcely notice that we were gone.
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The shade of death
The shade of death is made of a canopy piercing cold
That mortal eyes ache and cannot comprehend or behold
Yet when mortal eyes are closed
And death, cold and pale the limbs reposed
Shall the disposed soul then wakes and roaming it seen
Asking: 'where are Eden's Golden keys? '
Some claim that grave is Heaven' gate
Where rich as poor, royal as commoner, all around it wait
A tale, a fairy, a feeble since old age told
Yet no one from there returned to this story enfold
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Love lost
She was so cruel and capricious making me bury our love
Not in a grave yard under a sluttish tomb stone
But beneath a tall oak tree of a forest dark, wide and alone
Where none can come across or see from above
There will be no memorial days or sad hours
And I shall never visit the tree or put flowers
Yet the mouth I loved so much to kiss and to treat
Was none like so daring and bittersweet
I shall never go to the under tree love grave
For the woods are hostile, dark and cold
My time I shall for new love save
New love, new joy, constrain the rebel heart, forget the old
All day long I shall stay in the sun
Where the wide winds blow and flowers bloom
But oh, I shall cry at night for my sorrow is still undone
When none will know my time of agony and gloom
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The left
Infatuate left will you still persistently proclaim
Your own mother land final doom, your direst foulest shame
Dis-patriate yourself in insanity so deformed and by the devil damned
Ah, when I hear your traitorous lying cunning bell
This gallant betrayal vane knell
It pains my wounded ear; the lies you tell
An ignorant and unsettled crowd of pretenders in self invalidation
Rush to culture their homeland destruction
And nourish a bantling who has already learned to lisp sedition
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My worst nightmare
My worst nightmare I dread and fear
To be buried beneath a street far from my dears
I will be long dead and my heart full of dust
The place, the dwell of my wherever lost lust
The wheels and hooves of machines and beasts rolling over my head
My bones will be shaken with pain and dread
This is how it will be
If no one is going to take a heed of me
If into a shallow grave my tattered skeleton is thrust
Imagine only inches beneath a heavy traffic street bust
The gallop of horses and the trot of goats and cows
Will keep their relentless beat with a chorus of crows
Beat into my scalp and my brain
Like never an end to the stream of rushing ants under rain
Heedless of poor me carrying, traveling, hurrying, leaving
In my life I shun away from front busy street living
When the wretched age catch up with my bones
Not a bell will be rang, not a pray or eulogy will be read
It is that which makes us noble in the world of the dead
Just like this lowering me down to my eternal tomb bed?
Ah, my spirit where does it wander where does it pass
My soul where does it dwell in heaven or in hell
In the face of immortality and ancient laws unveil
Deep sleep, eternal doom comes to every sinew and lust
No more pleasant summer night dreams, no more morning first shine
But this eternal entity; all formless kingdom divine
Along my bones the creeping tattered flesh will quake
And my all damped besmeared hair stiffened with dust and thus it spake
Do you find God there in this colossus universe of ultimate justice pure
Or you be-left to deem and contemplate in land of spiritual desolation insecure
Among creatures of grave clay; the vain dwellers of tomb dust
A moth out survive you; a mold digs and borrows under your gravel rust
Things of normal routine day you never see nor attend the dusk of night
Heedless, stale and blind to wisdom and light
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A lover laments
Do not leave me love
Please stay with me longer
Do not hastily go and rush to the world yonder
To the place in heaven and angles soaring above
Do not leave me love
Please be with me on my final path decline
Keep up your strength and trailing devoted sign
Be to my final end, be my enduring cherished dove
Do not leave me love
To roam in empty house of dusty suffocating rooms
With cracking doors, talking to your ghosts and shadows
Of happy past days before this time of age and doom
Do not abandon me love at night nor at dawn
Let me not attend your horrible ceremony
Oh heart break, Oh crushing agony
Just to hear the coils cracks when you are lowered down
Do not leave me love before my time comes
Talk to me of days of joy and courtship young under sunrise
when the look of fire in your eyes looms and rises
To amaze and to stun all beholders and ever some
Yet me think if I can kindly ask the lord
That he takes us both together, swiftly at once
So we together as always be as one
To avoid this dreadful ceremony we each cannot afford
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He who would never his name write
He who would never his name write
On this bouquet of flowers
Yet your face in his heart inscribed
Your exquisite stature in his eyes a tower
He who one day you will forgive yourself to forget
His memory from mind and heart you will let
And he will be far away
Like the sun at the end of the day
He who will sink into a minuscule oblivion
Never to appear in mind or in opinion
He who will cease to be
In the dearest heart of thee
And those who would walk behind his coffin
Will never tell the roads of love
His heart and soul toiled and trod
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Meanwhile
She sparkles, she dazzles
She lights up the room
We walk together to a table for two
Every man stares but her eyes are only for me
We take to the dance floor
She squeezes my hand
I cant believe just how lucky I am
Meanwhile back in the back of my memory
Youre still dancing with me
And Im holding you once again
...meanwhile
We move to the end
Of a beautiful night
Tender the kisses
Soft candle light
She draws the curtains
Slowly we climb up the stairs
And reach for each other
The passion begins
We fall together as lovers and then...
Meanwhile back in the back of my memory
Youre still lying with me
And Im holding you once again
I try and I try
The lord knows I do
But each time my heart beats back to you
Meanwhile Ill go on living my life now
Ill find a way somehow
Oh but meanwhile back in the back of my memory
Youll always be with me but Ill never hold you again
.... meanwhile...
song performed by by George Strait
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love at first sight
There comes time when I watch an ancient sea at its slow ebb
Long hours with howling winds echoing over vast sand
Since I was entangled in your beauty's eyes web
And trembled at the touch of un gloved extended hand
Since I met you I never looked at the midnight ora of summer sky
But well remember each moment your slaying eyes memorized light
Nor I can look or compare a wild rose vermilion dye
But your cheek where my lips will crave to dwell in bright
Can I look in adoration at any budding flower
When my fond ear adores every sound uttered from your lips
And heartbreaking for love sound, passionate wording- it does devour
Any sweetness you may speak under the sun eclipse
Every delight you may bestow is a sweet remembering
Followed by subtle grief this may into my heart bring
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My verse
There are those who dip their quill in honey
Before they verse the lines of love
There are those who soak it in agony
Before they lay the lines of solitude and loath
I am none of the above
My verse is simple
It puts a smile between two dimples
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History Will Teach Us Nothing
If we seek solace in the prisons of the distant past
Security in human systems were told will always always last
Emotions are the sail and blind faith is the mast
Without a breath of real freedom were getting nowhere fast
If God is dead and an actor plays his part
His words of fear will find their way to a place in your heart
Without the voice of reason every faith is its own curse
Without freedom from the past things can only get worse
Sooner or later just like the world first day
Sooner or later we learn to throw the past away
Sooner or later just like the world first day
Sooner or later we learn to throw the past away
Sooner or later we learn to throw the past away
History will teach us nothing
History will teach us nothing
Our written history is a catalogue of crime
The sordid and the powerful, the architects of time
The mother of invention, the oppression of the mild
The constant fear of scarcity, aggression as its child
Sooner or later
Sooner or later
Sooner or later
Sooner or later
Convince an enemy, convince him that hes wrong
Is to win a bloodless battle where victory is long
A simple act of faith
In reason over might
To blow up his children will only prove him right
History will teach us nothing
Sooner or later the world first day
Sooner or later we learn to throw the past away
Sooner or later the world first day
Sooner or later we learn to throw the past away
Sooner or later we learn to throw the past away
History will teach us nothing
History will teach us nothing
Know you human rights
Be what you come here for
Know your human rights
Be what you come here for
Know your human rights
Be what you come here for
Know your human rights
Be what you come here for
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My lover and I
When the ever resilient nightingale to his date
Chirrups his songs day long and night late
My love and I keep our sweet state
In the lush and balmy bower
Of varieties bursting blooming flowers
Sweetening with love chat the fresh young air
All day from rose cheeked morning till dusk we are there
Till the watchman guarding in the tower
Announces the approaching close hour
The gored vermilion sun sank in the West
And the night rests on canopies and on crests
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When I catch my falling star
When I catch my falling star
Many friends will be there to tell where all my past years are
When I catch my falling star
I will take with me songs of glory repertoire
When does fall my star from the skies
Let no tears fall on checks from loving eyes
When does fall my star from the skies
The birds will sing and trees indulge in breeze free of human sighs
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A Midnight summer hour
A Midnight summer hour, in the streets of a dormant city
That has not a sound from the warm dusty, pavement
The pale moon has lost her memory in nightly orbit of pity
She is smiling alone in awkward mockery, madness no sentiment
In the dimming lamplight the withered leaves of late summer
Are collecting at my feet and at the corner streets
And the wind by them begins at their hiss to moan
So terrifying sounds that it delays the hesitating dawn
The memory of her all alone in the moonlight
I can smile at the reminisces of old happy days
She was so beautiful then under the sun at the bay
I remember the time I knew that happiness was a delight
Let this divine memory live again in my fantasy
As I walk desolated in empty streets as every street lamp
Seems to beat a fatalistic beacon of final flame
A warning, of its doom approaching end and agonizing ecstasy
Someone mutters at the street lamp gutters band
And soon a fierce and foul dawn rises on the beach sand
The light from her window into the darkness beams
She is no longer mine such an abrasive realistic it seems
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She
She never left the comfortableness of forty plus
Although her look is progressing to the point of collapse
Sometimes she may be seen in a dark cafe or flickering bars
Legs crossed; top buttons loose to announce the world her love scars
Some men of the past; some more than few
Knew her under better skies hue
To call themselves the noble term husband
But they all disappeared the relationships did not stand
Especially to one lover she is gone, the cruel fair;
For him she cast not back a look of pitying eye:
But left her lover to sink in desolate despair
To sigh, to languish, like a flower to wilt and to die:
Ah! how can those fair eyes endure
To give the wounds they will not cure?
To him she was the great Goddess of love that made
A face that can all hearts control and command
That all religions and cultures can invade
And easily change and reverse every law of the land
Where has such power been placed before
She should have mercy on him the more
Now lonely and lovely she is strolling in the market place
Carrying a basket of fashion to emphasize her waning grace
And still she steals whistles and shrieks from creatures standing by
Which she absorb in hidden content and with victorious sigh
Upon her head she wares a hat with a modest wreath
From whence her veil reaches to the side walk beneath
No one can tell her veil is artificial flowers or genuine leaves
Whose craftsmen either way left all beguiled by a total deceive
Many will praise the sweet smell as she passes
Is it her natural scent, a perfume, or her breath she casts
A kind of smell that the honey bee seek in vain
They would pursue it in high winds and tumultuous rain
About her chest hangs chain of crafted pebblestone
which is lightened by her neck like diamonds are shone
She never wares gloves, for neither sun nor wind
would burn or parch such skin on hands that make birds sing
What is her substance, from which she is made
that millions of strange shadow hues on her tend
Since everyone reflects one and only one shade
But she? She can every shadow of the rainbow lend
There are those who were lucky to observe her from close
To see a beauty beauteous framed in web of winkles and lines
As if by now is spared and skipped by years and by time
This beauty is preserved as in a book rests an eternal rose
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The shell
Look what a beautiful shell of ivory white
Recently thrown at the sands by the rushing tide
See what a lovely shell a pad of a soft sloth snail
Small and pure without the notoriety of a pearl
Lying on the back of sand hill so nigh to my foot
Brittle, frail spared by the violent breakers loot
Oh what mind what hand has made it so fairly well
Ah, empty, vacant from the creature that within it dwells
Its delicate spire and whorl
How exquisitely are weaved its stripes of colors in whole
A miracle of design, that lives through ancient time
No less in beauty and charm than a poet rhyme
A piece of beauty is called a 'shell' by man
Not a pearl, not a jewel but unmoving dull clumsy name
A 'shell' which does not recall any treasure or historical fame
Let him who did not create it call it as he can
He who passes by it without notice, this pleasure from his eyes to ban
Yet this beauty holds in the sands and its charm contends the same
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