Sonnet 11
XI
A Book was writ of late call'd Tetrachordon;
And wov'n close, both matter, form and stile;
The Subject new: it walk'd the Town a while,
Numbring good intellects; now seldom por'd on.
Cries the stall-reader, bless us! what a word on
A title page is this! and some in file
Stand spelling fals, while one might walk to Mile-
End Green. Why is it harder Sirs then Gordon,
Colkitto, or Macdonnel, or Galasp?
Those rugged names to our like mouths grow sleek
That would have made Quintilian stare and gasp.
Thy age, like ours, O Soul of Sir John Cheek,
Hated not Learning wors then Toad or Asp;
When thou taught'st Cambridge, and King Edward Greek.
Note: Camb. Autograph supplies title, On the Detraction which
followed my writing certain Treatises.
poem by John Milton
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Related quotes
Sonnet 14
XIV
When Faith and Love which parted from thee never,
Had ripen'd thy just soul to dwell with God,
Meekly thou didst resign this earthy load
Of Death, call'd Life; which us from Life doth sever
Thy Works and Alms and all thy good Endeavour
Staid not behind, nor in the grave were trod;
But as Faith pointed with her golden rod,
Follow'd thee up to joy and bliss for ever.
Love led them on, and Faith who knew them best
Thy hand-maids, clad them o're with purple beams
And azure wings, that up they flew so drest,
And speak the truth of thee on glorious Theams
Before the Judge, who thenceforth bid thee rest
And drink thy fill of pure immortal streams.
Note: Camb. Autograph supplies title, On the Religious
Memory of Catherine Thomson, my Christian Friend, deceased
16 Decemb., 1646.
poem by John Milton
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Sonnet 10
X
Daughter to that good Earl, once President
Of Englands Counsel, and her Treasury,
Who liv'd in both, unstain'd with gold or fee,
And left them both, more in himself content,
Till the sad breaking of that Parlament
Broke him, as that dishonest victory
At Chaeronea, fatal to liberty
Kil'd with report that Old man eloquent,
Though later born, then to have known the dayes
Wherin your Father flourisht, yet by you
Madam, me thinks I see him living yet;
So well your words his noble vertues praise,
That all both judge you to relate them true,
And to possess them, Honour'd Margaret.
Note: Camb. autograph supplies title, To the Lady Margaret
Ley.
poem by John Milton
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Anecdote For Fathers
By the late W. W. (of H.M. Inland Revenue Service).
And is it so? Can Folly stalk
And aim her unrespecting darts
In shades where grave Professors walk
And Bachelors of Arts?
I have a boy, not six years old,
A sprite of birth and lineage high:
His birth I did myself behold,
His caste is in his eye.
And oh! his limbs are full of grace,
His boyish beauty past compare:
His mother's joy to wash his face,
And mine to brush his hair!
One morn we strolled on our short walk,
With four goloshes on our shoes,
And held the customary talk
That parents love to use.
(And oft I turn it into verse,
And write it down upon a page,
Which, being sold, supplies my purse
And ministers to age.)
So as we paced the curving High,
To view the sights of Oxford town
We raised our feet (like Nelly Bly),
And then we put them down.
'Now, little Edward, answer me'—
I said, and clutched him by the gown—
'At Cambridge would you rather be,
Or here in Oxford town?'
My boy replied with tiny frown
(He'd been a year at Cavendish),
'I'd rather dwell in Oxford town,
If I could have my wish.'
'Now, little Edward, say why so;
My little Edward, tell me why.'
'Well, really, Pa, I hardly know.'
'Remarkable!' said I:
'For Cambridge has her 'King's Parade,'
And much the more becoming gown;
Why should you slight her so,' I said,
'Compared with Oxford town?'
At this my boy hung down his head,
While sterner grew the parent's eye;
And six-and-thirty times I said,
'Come, Edward, tell me why?'
For I loved Cambridge (where they deal—
How strange!—in butter by the yard);
And so, with every third appeal,
I hit him rather hard.
Twelve times I struck, as may be seen
(For three times twelve is thirty-six),
When in a shop the Magazine
His tearful sight did fix.
He saw it plain, it made him smile,
And thus to me he made reply:—
'At Oxford there's a Crocodile;
And that's the reason why.'
Oh, Mr. Editor! my heart
For deeper lore would seldom yearn,
Could I believe the hundredth part
Of what from you I learn.
poem by Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch
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You Will Make Them Proud
What's in a title you may well ask,
Think carefully before you name,
A nom de plume is akin to a mask,
It can be beautiful but it can also maim.
When you're naming a child be wary,
What you call them is theirs for life,
Some names given can be scary,
Remarks made can cut like a knife.
A name can be just like an open wound,
Inside and out it can fester,
If you choose a title that is finely tuned,
They will not then become the court jester.
You may well think you don't really care,
It's your child you can do what you want,
They have to live with it so please be aware,
Your decision could come back to haunt.
When they mature and grow older,
In their title they may well feel ashamed,
Their attitude to you will grow colder,
It will be you who is blamed.
Some human beings can be very cruel,
To abuse they'll use any excuse,
Don't let your child be made feel a fool,
Name them wisely lest they suffer abuse.
Just like in poetry a title can rhyme,
Please ensure you give that some thought,
Some names given should be classed as a crime,
As they can leave the recipient distraught.
I tell you this story as a warning,
My mother entitled me Jock,
Some of the names I'm now adorning,
Have placed me in a state of shock.
You love your child so try to be kind,
That title on them you've endowed,
Will be theirs forever keep that in mind,
choose wisely and,
‘' You Will Make Them Proud ‘'
A Carol
Our Lord Who did the Ox command
To kneel to Judah's King,
He binds His frost upon the land
To ripen it for Spring --
To ripen it for Spring, good sirs,
According to His Word.
Which well must be as ye can see --
And who shall judge the Lord?
When we poor fenmen skate the ice
Or shiver on the wold,
We hear the cry of a single tree
That breaks her heart in the cold --
That breaks her heart in the cold, good sirs,
And rendeth by the board.
Which well must be as ye can see --
And who shall judge the Lord?
Her wood is crazed and little worth
Excepting as to burn,
That we may warm and make our mirth
Until the Spring return --
Until the Spring return, good sirs,
When Christians walk abroad;
When well must be as ye can see --
And who shall judge the Lord?
God bless the master of this house,
And all who sleep therein!
And guard the fens from pirate folk,
And keep us all from sin,
To walk in honesty, good sirs,
Of thought and deed ad word!
Which shall befriend our latter end....
And who shall judge the Lord?
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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So Near, Yet So Far
With each new day that comes along
my heart bursts out with another song
of love and longing for that which is
always calling me like an eternal whiz.
'So near yet so far' is a term often used
to describe the distance which is abused
between us and that which is our goal
and all we have to do is realise our soul.
We'll find sooner or later the Treasured Pearl
around which all of our existence does whirl.
___________________________________
Note:
This poem appears in my unpublished book along with two other poems on the same page under the title of 'Three By Ten'. I have herein given it a new title for this submission.
Please see also my other poem titled 'Within Us'.
poem by George Krokos
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Sonnet 08
VIII
Captain or Colonel, or Knight in Arms,
Whose chance on these defenceless dores may sease,
If ever deed of honour did thee please,
Guard them, and him within protect from harms,
He can requite thee, for he knows the charms
That call Fame on such gentle acts as these,
And he can spred thy Name o're Lands and Seas,
What ever clime the Suns bright circle warms.
Lift not thy spear against the Muses Bowre,
The great Emathian Conqueror bid spare
The house of Pindarus, when Temple and Towre
Went to the ground: And the repeated air
Of sad Electra's Poet had the power
To save th' Athenian Walls from ruine bare.
Notes:
Camb. autograph supplies title, When the assault was intended
to the city.
3 If deed of honour did thee ever please, 1673.
poem by John Milton
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The Perfect Poem
Fledgling poets often make a wide variety of mistakes,
And it’s nice to have these brought to your attention.
People enjoy writing poetry, as at the end of the day,
They end up, with a product of their own invention.
If you’re writing a poem to enter into a competition,
Don’t be tempted to use coloured ink or fancy fonts;
Along with the use of images, they detract from the poem,
And this is not what any reader, especially a judge, wants.
The title of your masterpiece is very important indeed;
It needs to really grab the reader’s eye and attention.
People don’t always realise how important a catchy title is,
But, it is a valid point which really is worth a mention.
The body of text, needs to be broken into bite size verses,
So as it’s attractive to the reader’s roving and selective eye.
If a poem looks forbidding, and uninviting on the printed page,
Many a reader is likely to just gloss over it, and pass it on by.
The wording of a poem should sound as natural as can be:
Phrases shouldn’t be inverted in order to satisfy a rhyme.
The use of inversion is not considered to be skilful writing,
But, it is used by many writers of poetry, time after time.
The lines of a poem, especially those ones which rhyme,
Give or take a syllable, should be roughly of equal length.
If a poem has a really good strong, rhythmic pulse to it,
It really does give it so much more balance and strength.
Readers are much less likely to choose to read a poem,
If it is really confusing, or if it is just weirdly obscure.
Too many ideas and themes packed into one piece alone,
Is another problem which readers hate to have to endure.
You shouldn’t tell the reader too much or too little –
It needs to be just the right amount of information.
They need the chance to find their own way into a poem,
Leaving room for their own imagination, and interpretation.
Certain subjects are covered time and time again,
And so there’s not really anything very new to say;
If you do choose to write about a popular subject,
You need to present it in a totally fresh and new way.
If you follow the above useful advice and guidelines,
Your chances of winning a competition should increase.
Correct any spelling and grammatical errors you may have,
Then, you should end up with pretty much the perfect piece.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Sonnet 13
XIII
To Mr. H. Lawes, on his Aires.
Harry whose tuneful and well measur'd Song
First taught our English Musick how to span
Words with just note and accent, not to scan
With Midas Ears, committing short and long;
Thy worth and skill exempts thee from the throng,
With praise enough for Envy to look wan;
To after age thou shalt be writ the man,
That with smooth aire couldst humor best our tongue
Thou honour'st Verse, and Verse must send her wing
To honour thee, the Priest of Phoebus Quire
That tun'st their happiest lines in Hymn or Story
Dante shall give Fame leave to set thee higher
Then his Casella, whom he woo'd to sing
Met in the milder shades of Purgatory.
Note: 9 send] lend Cambridge Autograph MS.
poem by John Milton
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Each One Needs a Title
Each one needs a title.
It's not enough to call them by their first names.
Or not be introduced,
Without hearing one's résumé.
And they are serious too.
They want people to know they've earned degrees.
They quickly reveal where they live, what they drive.
And where they eat to be fed the best cruisine.
Each one needs a title.
Something that widens eyes a lot.
Some are overheard saying,
Where they vacation and shop.
Who has a nanny!
And which ones do not.
Who employs a housekeeper.
And which services some had to stop.
Each one needs a title.
At least one impressive enough...
For tongues to wag,
And jaws to drop!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Call Me
She looked for truth
inside a bottle of rain
posted an ad
then changed her name
on a roller coaster
that couldn't be caught
she left one note
at the hotel last resort
And it said
call me
don't let me down
walk me on the water
don't let me drown no
call me
don't let me down
walk me on the water
don't let me drown,
don't let me drown
Well the precious friends
and their special needs
they're like a cancer
that just feeds and feeds
saddle up and lets get out of here
you don't need one more
to shed one more tear
you couldn't make a stand now
you couldn't get it right
I only got this message now
Late, late last night
call me
don't let me down
walk me on the water
don't let me drown
call me
don't let me down
walk me on the water
don't let me drown no
don't let me drown
Call me
Solo
call me
don't let me down
walk me on the water
don't let me drown
call me
don't let me down
walk me on the water
don't let me drown,
don't let me drown
song performed by by Ufo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Book Of Days
Your life is as a book
Written on the pages are the weeks
For you would give anything to take just one look
Into the next chapter, the next page
Each page is a new thought, a new dream
Sometimes it takes so long to pass that page
And sometimes nothing is as it seams
For you know you can not go ahead or back
You know you are where you are
You know you can't change that
As you read page to page, so near to fear
You write the chapters as you go, with each turn
Each turn, each move changes what's to come
And you know each moment could be the last
With this in mind you go so mumb
So numb to the touch, to the thought
You turn page after page
until you reach the 'end'
And only then, you are freed from the title
The title that has kept your thoughts bound, and tight
You turn the pages one by one
You take the pain, take the joy
Until you are done
And your story becomes another on the shelf of eternity
(1/24/2008)
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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Title
Give a title
Pursue it.
Giving title is in your hand
After giving title it is you
To go behind it.
Through this title
You are going to search truth
And the secret of truth
Though the title is
Not based on truth.
Title given on imagination
And imaginary world is not real world.
Without imagination
You can not go anywhere
You can not achieve anything.
It is your imagination
That pull and push you.
From the starting
You are wandering
With the title
You have given.
Unless you forget
All that are yours
You can not reach me.
Go not with anything.
Come to me only
Come to me in empty.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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A good title is the title of a successful book.
quote by Robert C. Gallagher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Don't Stand So Close To Me
Young teacher, the subject
Of schoolgirl fantasy
She wants him so badly
Knows what she wants to be
Inside her there's longing
This girl's an open page
Book marking - she's so close now
This girl is half his age
Don't stand, don't stand so
Don't stand so close to me
Her friends are so jealous
You know how bad girls get
Sometimes it's not so easy
To be the teacher's pet
Temptation, frustration
So bad it makes him cry
Wet bus stop, she's waiting
His car is warm and dry
Don't stand, don't stand so
Don't stand so close to me
Loose talk in the classroom
To hurt they try and try
Strong words in the staffroom
The accusations fly
It's no use, he sees her
He starts to shake and cough
Just like the old man in
That book by Nabakov
Don't stand, don't stand so
Don't stand so close to me
Don't stand, don't stand so
Don't stand so close to me
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Turpentine
Baby going down, cant look you in the eye
Where you gonna go with no place to die
My water breaks like turpentine
I survive in your sacrifice
Now you get watch
You get to watch
Now you get to watch me die
Bless my body and bless my soul
Wrap it in turpentine
Its a stare down - whatever for
I like it cold and raw
Who really knows where the ruby lies
I see all the sick reflections in your ruby eyes
And I know all you devils by your christian names
And I know all you bitches by your christian names
Now I get to watch
Now I get to watch
Now I get to watch you die
Bless my body and bless my soul
Wrap it in turpentine
..? ...
Put your head up over your legs
Count backwards from infinity
Oh oh woah
Eat the rose and the dirt it grows in
I dont even know what hole thats supposed to go in
Now youre man and you snuff at me
It stinks up now in the junkie tree
Now you get to watch
You get to watch
You get to watch me die
Bless my body and bless my soul
Wrap it in turpentine
Back and it feels like ?
Put your legs up over your head
I walk in to your suicide
Hold down suicide
I cease to exist on the christmas list
I cease to exist in the old disease
I lie right down baby give it to me
I lie right down
Nowhere to walk backwards forwards
Nowhere to walk backwards forwards
Nowhere to walk...
song performed by by Hole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Don't Stand So Close
don't stand so close
by the police
young teacher, the subject, of school girl fantasy
she wants him, so badly, knows what she wants to be
inside him, there's no room, this girl's an open page
bookmark in, she's so close now, this girl is half his age
don't stand, don't stand so
don't stand so close to me
don't stand, don't stand so
don't stand so close to me
her friends are, so jealous, you know how bad girls get
sometimes it's not so easy, to be the teacher's pet
temptation, frustration, so bad it makes him cry
wet bus stop, she's waiting, his car is warm and dry
don't stand, don't stand so
don't stand so close to me
don't stand, don't stand so
don't stand so close to me
loose talk in, the classroom, to hurt they try and try
strong words in, the staffroom, the accusations fly
it's no use, he sees her, he starts to shake and cough
just like the, old man in, that book by nabakov
don't stand, don't stand so
don't stand so close to me
don't stand, don't stand so
don't stand so close to me
song performed by by Police
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The One Behind It All
There are those few who know and those who don't
it remains to be seen how many there are who wont
of themselves make the effort to investigate the fact
everything they see and touch was created in one act.
It all exists and is sustained within a boundless place
of infinite imagination conceived in formless space,
by a Supreme Being Who's the game and player in this sport
watching also like a spectator within the field of its thought.
It is what has been created; the creation, its creatures and so much more,
everything that's forever changing and the unchanging substance of it all.
_________________________________________ _____________
Note:
This poem appears in my unpublished book along with two other poems on the same page under the title of 'Three By Ten'. I have herein given it a new title for this submission.
poem by George Krokos
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It's good to have a title that's not just one word. If you're gonna title it, you might as well try and say something.
quote by Damien Hirst
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Take A Walk Through Bethlehem
(Ashley Cleveland/John Barlow Jarvis/Wally Wilson)
The city's decorated up for Christmas
All the stores are open late tonight
People hurry through the frozen streets
I take a walk.
Every child has a thousand wishes
Every window has a thousand lights
Every soul has a need for peace
I take a walk.
There's a star that still outshines the night
You can find it if you close your eyes
And see the light.
Take a walk through Bethlehem
Come and kneel before the Lamb
Good news for every man
Walk through Bethlehem.
Every night another TV special
Merchants counting down the shopping days
But something's missing underneath the tree
I take a walk.
'Cause every heart longs for more than tinsel
Something more than just a holiday
Come and celebrate the baby King
Let's take a walk.
You don't have to travel anywhere
Faith and hope and love will bring you there
Bring you there.
Take a walk through Bethlehem
Come and kneel before the Lamb
Good news for every man
Walk through Bethlehem...
song performed by by Trisha Yearwood
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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