Three Palinodias - 02 Conflict Of Wit And Beauty
SIR Wit, who is so much esteem'd,
And who is worthy of all honour,
Saw Beauty his superior deem'd
By folks who loved to gaze upon her;
At this he was most sorely vex'd.
Then came Sir Breath (long known as fit
To represent the cause of wit),
Beginning, rudely, I admit,
To treat the lady with a text.
To this she hearken'd not at all,
But hasten'd to his principal:
"None are so wise, they say, as you,--
Is not the world enough for two?
If you are obstinate, good-bye!
If wise, to love me you will try,
For be assured the world can ne'er
Give birth to a more handsome pair."
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FAIR daughters were by Beauty rear'd,
Wit had but dull sons for his lot;
So for a season it appear'd
Beauty was constant, Wit was not.
But Wit's a native of the soil,
So he return'd, work'd, strove amain,
And found--sweet guerdon for his toil!--
Beauty to quicken him again.
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Conflict Of Wit And Beauty
Sir Wit, who is so much esteem'd,
And who is worthy of all honour,
Saw Beauty his superior deem'd
By folks who loved to gaze upon her;
At this he was most sorely vex'd.
Then came Sir Breath (long known as fit
To represent the cause of wit),
Beginning, rudely, I admit,
To treat the lady with a text.
To this she hearken'd not at all,
But hasten'd to his principal:
'None are so wise, they say, as you,--
Is not the world enough for two?
If you are obstinate, good-bye!
If wise, to love me you will try,
For be assured the world can ne'er
Give birth to a more handsome pair.'
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Lovely To Look At
The elegant lady who felt like a queen
was lovely to look at,
lovely when seen.
People adored her wherever she went.
She received all complements
when ere they were sent
with dignity and propiety
for all that it meant.
It meant she was loved.
It meant she understood.
that she was loved. She was loved
but not by the one that she did love.
He was not aware of her.
She waited for him to notice her
and her wait was terribly long.
She did not understand this dilemma.
What was it that was wrong?
Finally after many long years
her beauty was a thing of the past.
The one she loved for so many years
came to her at last.
Why now when my beauty is gone?
Why do you love me now?
His answer was not what she expected.
'For I feel I am worthy somehow.
To approach you before did not seem right
though your beauty astounded me
from the very first sight.
Your beauty stayed with me.
It will never depart.
And now my love, I offer my heart.'
The beautiful elegant lady
gasped as she held out her hand.
She was loved. She was loved
by the one she loved
and the feeling was oh so grand.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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In The Mirror
I saw his gaze in the mirror,
My gaze was superior for miles.
The innocent way of smiling became real,
His gaze fell from grace to a level
Of importance too known by some.
The mirror’s atmosphere nears function,
Too little are the buttons to press.
May superior art beam on us from afar,
And let windows be mirrors for their art.
A bedazzled crew of workers labour
Night and day, for the cleaning is in order.
poem by Naveed Akram
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You Are Better
You have actually succeeded in convincing me
I was making a fool of myself, everything I said
interpreted as negative - I give up, conform to
your opinion - I am too tired to fight - besides
why fight someone who shall do everything
that's wanted -
Why expect understanding and friendship
when I get common sense, help buying
groceries, guidance in human relations,
everything required - if you feel that I‘m
stupid, I have to agree; but as it means
you are the biggest fool
For putting up with me while I feel that you
are worthy - it means I would not agree to
anything with someone I deem unworthy:
if you deem me unworthy, so be it, you
are welcome to put yourself down, I'd
never do such a thing myself
If you feel you were capable of choosing an
inferior partner while I feel superior in my
choice of you, I prefer my own estima-
tion to yours; you can rate me as low
as you please, I rate me as high
as can be - because I know
You are better than this…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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It is forbidden to decry other sects; the true believer gives honour to whatever in them is worthy of honour.
It is forbidden to decry other sects the true believer gives honour to whatever in them is worthy of honour.
Honour Life
honour life
honour people loved
while they are here
rather than mourn
when they are gone
when it is too late
show a little sincere appreciation
for family friends life loved
saving you from empty alienation
appreciate gift love time
subtle small gifts divine
memories shine through time
to love appreciate fully now
seems a far better rational response
than to regret at fatal final hour
honour life
honour life
while it is here
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Try Super-Addictive 'Freebase' Nicotine Today!
When nicotine is added to some chemicals folks try,
It's then 'freebase', folks' brains to screw and finally folks die.
Some cigarettes are made so strong that strong men fail to quit,
Yet would they start a thing so wrong if they knew all of it?
Each packet has a warning note to tell folks, 'Leave these be! '
Once warned, who needs an antidote or cure to set folks free?
Yet there are those who still ignore the signpost, 'Sickness! Death! '
Though loved ones nag and will implore, is this just wasted breath?
Why must it be that cigarettes turn wise folks into fools?
Why must we see fag-fuelled regrets, yes, even in our schools?
How many deaths must be played out before the world sees sense
And bans what makes the grievers shout, such that all smoking ends?
Freebase, freewill, freedom to choose? But funerals aren't free!
Nor are the feelings when you lose the life God meant to be...
poem by Denis Martindale
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Just False Patriotism
'Tis true to the dead that respect we should show
But they still honour men who died ninety years ago
For a dubious cause in Lands far away
But the war that was supposed to end all wars is re-lived today.
In that war it is said a million people died
And in such needless slaughter why do we take pride
At the war memorial the last post is played
And the long war dead are honoured with one more parade.
Those who march for peace it does seem to me
Do more for the betterment of humanity
Than those who go to war memorials to honour the long dead
Far too much about war has been written and said.
Just false patriotism to me this does seem
A boost to big egos and to self esteem
The mistakes of war are repeated today
And people are dying in war zones far away.
poem by Francis Duggan
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A Platonic Reminiscence of a Great Lady
Someone mentioned your name yesterday
and I was silent
You loved goodness, you were goodness,
and I think goodness must have
loved you; and we,
we loved you for your goodness
You loved truth, spoke truth,
and surely the truth
loved you for loving it; and how
we loved to hear you
speaking truth
You loved beauty in
so many ways that beauty
blessed you: in movement,
in actions, in thought, in words and yes
the beauty of goodness and
the beauty of truth shone from you –
how could we not love you
beyond you?
How often in this poem to you
the word love appears
as it did
in you
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Bad, yet superior
Disloyalty is evil
But still superior to infidelity
Ingratitude is bad
But still superior to betrayal
Meanness is low
But still superior to imprudence.
Revenge is cruel
But still superior to assault.
26.06.2008.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Is There Any Truth in Beauty?
Is there any truth in Beauty?
What of the lies beauty tells thee?
Could my beauty not be as worthy
As I make thy Beauty part of me?
Such is Beauty as to make one's sight loud.
This beauty that veils our sense in a shroud.
beauty: that which deters seeing the person.
Does Beauty not conceal what is and isn't?
Yet merciless time holds beauty as a hostage,
Defiles Beauty and scars it with lasting ravage.
Thus the years that pass send Beauty to its resting-place
For vain beauty will yield, to woefully fall from grace.
If beauty should ever lament on age's cruelty,
Let not Beauty forget how little it has wept for me.
Ballade Of Mature Beauty
Easy comes beauty in youth’s natural spring,
But with age its mellow dimensions grow.
Like to a bud, a full bloom, age will bring.
With grace its beauty does ebb and glow,
Its liberty allows its new functions to show.
Mature beauty is and will be admired always,
Youth’s beauty and its esteem goes to and fro,
But ageless deeper beauty has endless days.
Mature beauty has a melody to sing,
And this it releases so that you will know,
The elegance and blessing of its echo’s ring.
The evidence of a mind is part of its show,
For it opens tastefully with a view to bestow.
Ageless beauty never lacks for praise.
The beauty of life’s spring may lose its glow,
But ageless deeper beauty has endless days.
In poetry and melody its praises we bring,
For mature beauty’s many dimensions we know.
With fervid dignity I see it take to wing,
Giving the young buds an inspiring show.
May you long guide youth as they grow,
Leading them in elegance the celestial ways.
So youth will know how easy beauty may go,
But ageless deeper beauty has endless days.
Now young buds aspire to full blooms grow,
And become worthy of nature’s timeless praise.
Allow your charm in majesty and grace to glow,
And may your ageless beauty have endless days.
poem by Albert Price
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The Legend Glorified
'I deem that God is not disquieted'--
This in a mighty poet's rhymes I read;
And blazoned so forever doth abide
Within my soul the legend glorified.
Though awful tempests thunder overhead,
I deem that God is not disquieted,--
The faith that trembles somewhat yet is sure
Through storm and darkness of a way secure.
Bleak winters, when the naked spirit hears
The break of hearts, through stinging sleet of tears,
I deem that God is not disquieted;
Against all stresses am I clothed and fed.
Nay, even with fixed eyes and broken breath,
My feet dip down into the tides of death,
Nor any friend be left, nor prayer be said,
I deem that God is not disquieted.
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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To His Forsaken Mistress
I DO confess thou'rt smooth and fair,
And I might have gone near to love thee,
Had I not found the slightest prayer
That lips could move, had power to move thee;
But I can let thee now alone
As worthy to be loved by none.
I do confess thou'rt sweet; yet find
Thee such an unthrift of thy sweets,
Thy favours are but like the wind
That kisseth everything it meets:
And since thou canst with more than one,
Thou'rt worthy to be kiss'd by none.
The morning rose that untouch'd stands
Arm'd with her briers, how sweet she smells!
But pluck'd and strain'd through ruder hands,
Her sweets no longer with her dwells:
But scent and beauty both are gone,
And leaves fall from her, one by one.
Such fate ere long will thee betide
When thou hast handled been awhile,
With sere flowers to be thrown aside;
And I shall sigh, while some will smile,
To see thy love to every one
Hath brought thee to be loved by none.
poem by Sir Robert Aytoun
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What Shall I Do For the Land that Bred Me
What shall I do for the land that bred me,
Her homes and fields that folded and fed me?—
Be under her banner and live for her honour:
Under her banner I’ll live for her honour.
CHORUS. Under her banner live for her honour.
Not the pleasure, the pay, the plunder,
But country and flag, the flag I am under—
There is the shilling that finds me willing
To follow a banner and fight for honour.
CH. We follow her banner, we fight for her honour.
Call me England’s fame’s fond lover,
Her fame to keep, her fame to recover.
Spend me or end me what God shall send me,
But under her banner I live for her honour.
CH. Under her banner we march for her honour.
Where is the field I must play the man on?
O welcome there their steel or cannon.
Immortal beauty is death with duty,
If under her banner I fall for her honour.
CH. Under her banner we fall for her honour.
poem by Gerard Manley Hopkins
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I am crazy
I go crazy now a day
To esteem you my dear Sun
Your shine, your rays
Hot.. Pierce my skin
Sweat me and drench even
I go crazy now a day
To worship you my dear Moon
Your milky shine, your smiling face
Make me gaze and gaze at you
And lost at you in merry thoughts
I go crazy now a day
To adore you my blue sky
Your sight, you void, beloved plane
Make me feel floating with
Foamy white, and grey folks
Brewing out of frisky frost
I go crazy now a day
To admire you my dear stars
Twinkling with frolic comets
Make me feel jealous of you
To be there, there in glee
Do you know it? why I am
Feeling crazy on you, dear
You only could see my love
Day and night n’ round the clock
poem by Sandhya S.N
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What's The Use
WHAT'S the use o' folks a-frownin'
When the way's a little rough?
Frowns lay out the road fur smilin'
You'll be wrinkled soon enough.
What's the use?
What's the use o' folks a-sighin'?
It's an awful waste o' breath,
An' a body can't stand wastin'
What he needs so bad in death.
What's the use?
What's the use o' even weepin'?
Might as well go long an' smile.
Life, our longest, strongest arrow,
Only lasts a little while.
What's the use?
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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These Words Too Say What Love Was
ATHESE WORDS TOO SAY WHAT LOVE WAS
These words too say what Love was-
Though I am long from that love and those feelings-
Once there were songs in the night and great passion
And we were a kind of happiness that only the very blessed know-
I had dreamed of such love for so long
And you in your beauty were all Beauty could ever be-
We loved for a long time
And in that love I learned forever that Love is real-
But somehow in a way I will never understand
For you that love died-
And I was left loving without being loved
And had to go a long time in the pain of longing for you again-
But that was long long ago
And now where our love is no one can ever know
For it is only in memories that cannot truly capture what it really was-
Love it is true is the most beautiful thing we know
And I knew this with you
And will be grateful for it forever-
Though the nights the many years of nights in the long time that has passed say
There are other feelings by which we live and kinder quieter loves also -
O passion of my life oh destiny long gone oh Love I will never know again,
Do you blame yourself at all as I long ago have forgiven you
For abandoning the Beauty of our Life for long sad years of concentrated mindfilled gladnesses?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Worthy Art Thou, Returning Home
Worthy art thou, returning home, the bell
For thee should ring, and crowds come gathering round
To gaze, how as a gladdening miracle
Thou com'st, of sin or shame all blameless found.
Man's praise and woman's love shall thus abound;
And this thy glorious welcome shall dispel
The slanderous words which some have breathed around,
That honour bade thee still at distance dwell.
poem by Walther von der Vogelweide
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