Whale of a Tale
Hail bishop with memory frail
wound up when night's sup d[r]owned pale ale,
in Tooting Bec Garden
sin rooting wreck, hard-on,
but confessions too catholic fail.
Head made headlines, unfortunate tale,
he could make neither heads or tails, bail
may be sought for the sot
got his lot, potty plot
grows thicker, and sicker, all quail.
For at least from his priests rose gale wail
on the whale of the tale, they'd prevail
on the bish with boys' toys
who should fish for souls' buoys,
for repentance for leaving gael trail.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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The Dead
Hail and farewell to those who fought and died,
Not laughingly adventurous, nor pale
With idiot hatred, nor to fill the tale
Of racial selfishness and patriot pride,
But merely that their own souls rose and cried
Alarum when they heard the sudden wail
Of stricken freedom and along the gale
Saw her eternal banner quivering wide.
Farewell, high-hearted friends, for God is dead
If such as you can die and fare not well
If when you fall your gallant spirit fail.
You are with us still, and can we be adread
Though hell gape, bloody-fanged and horrible?
Glory and hope of us who love you, Hail!
poem by John Le Gay Brereton
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Living A Boys Adventure Tale
(pal waaktaar/morten harket)
Ive fixed my dwelling for the night
Lights in pairs come passing by
Where I hide
I need some time now on my own
Leave my loneliness alone
To lick my wounds
Night has found me just in time
To help me close my eyes
One more time
Living a boys adventure tale
In so many ways
Living a boys adventure tale
For so many days
Im living a boys adventure tale
Cant escape, if I wanted to
Living a boys adventure tale
I may be dreaming but I feel awake
Ive been lost in so many places
Seeked love in so many faces
A change of weather,
The rain pours down
My head in hands,
Pressed to the ground
And where am I supposed to go now
Living a boys adventure tale
In so many ways
Living a boys adventure tale (aah)
Living a boys adventure tale
A voice I hear
Living a boys adventure tale
Singing a lullaby for me
Living a boys adventure tale
Because of you
Living a boys adventure
Oh you know its true
Living a boys adventure tale
In so many ways (aah)
For so many days
I love you. I love you
So many ways
song performed by by A-Ha
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fish Tale
Everytime he told the tale,
The fish would grow some more.
He would repeat it without fail,
Till he got to be a boor.
It started as a Blue gill,
At the end it was a whale.
No he could never get his fill,
Of telling his fish tale.
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poem by Juan Olivarez
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Mpiani
Nail, mail, fail, sail, wail, bail, trail;
But try to wet some and dry some!
For, this tap always flow out in the dry season.
A lifestyle,
To agitate;
And, living the natural way of life.
Culture,
Tradition,
To the society,
And to forge unity with one another;
But ensure peace wherever you are!
Quail, ail, grail, rail brail, frail, pail, jail;
Pending,
Unity,
Rural,
Chieftaincy!
But, i am Mpiani in the land of your sweet muse.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Page and Pageant
Page, pageant, dreams veil daily quail trail tale.
Advancing age culls w[r]inkled p[r]awns, the Gods
Gain one by one life's pieces till dank sods
Enwrap what, carefree once, aped beauty hale.
Another well earned ‘bust’! Who strong were, [f[r]]ail
Now lie forgotten for Time's ruthless odds
D[r]own [fl]out all memory. Man's born, his nods
Prevail threescore before [str]etched powers fail
As one more stem beneath the thresher's flail,
Gathered in, is merged with claymate clods.
Each eager starts the day, home weary plods
As night light swallows, chaff before the gale.
NIRVANA's spell is scuttled in VAIN RAN
Thief Time’s [d]ice reef brief grief leaf life of Man.
(10 June 1992 revised 18 October 2006/Poem © Jonathan ROBIN Acrostic sonnet – Page and Pageant)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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The Lure of Being Lured
Why do they constantly try?
When each time fail.
A lure of no avail
Catch a piece of the sky
An endeavor forever to set sail.
The wind howls then makes one last wail.
Dark clouds cover another sunrise
Dumping the sand of time in a giant pail.
Down comes the hammer smashing one last nail.
Never to make a compromise
The darkness will never prevail
Even in the hardest hail
Just a man in a disguise
His voice so frail
His breath so stale.
To the rise
Even a slug can't forever fail
Just breath then exhale.
One last good bye
Just down some ale.
For here comes that cab you must hale
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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From The Break The Nightingale
From the brake the Nightingale
Sings exulting to the Rose;
Though he sees her waxing pale
In her passionate repose,
While she triumphs waxing frail,
Fading even while she glows;
Though he knows
How it goes -
Knows of last year's Nightingale
Dead with last year's Rose.
Wise the enamoured Nightingale,
Wise the well-beloved Rose!
Love and life shall still prevail,
Nor the silence at the close
Break the magic of the tale
In the telling, though it shows -
Who but knows
How it goes! -
Life a last year's Nightingale,
Love a last year's Rose.
poem by William Ernest Henley
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A Whale Of A Poem
Recently,
As stories go,
A tale was told,
About an old man,
And a fish,
He really wasn't a real fish!
He was a whale you know!
Anyways,
It seems that fish shallowed the man,
And inside the fish he did live,
Seven days and seven nights.
Oh what a fright,
That man did go through,
He inside of a fish,
Could have easily ended up his dish.
That story although a whopper,
I thought could not have been top,
Except in the second grade,
A student chimed in,
Oh great, now I know where my dad has been!
poem by Nadalia Bagratuni
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Drench
Come and fight back
Need some help here
Bail us out
In up to our necks
Drenching never stops
Fish us out
There's a light there to steer it
A fear that is peeling
And soaking us up
Into a slow-motion freezer
Division is leaving
Everything stops
It's overexposure
Stop running off on me
It's overexposure
Stop running off
Come and fight back
Need some help here
Bail us out
In up to our necks
Drenching never stops
Fish us out
Did you forget what you came in for?
Still shaking the rain off
Fresh from the storm
So we saved up the good stuff
And scrapped for the liferaft
Pistols at dawn
It's overexposed
And only tits and teeth remain
It's overexposed
Keep your filthy hands off
Come and fight back
Need some help here
Bail us out
Had it up to here
Drenching never stops
Fish us out
Come and fight back
Need some help here
Bail us out
Had it up to here
Drenching never stops
Fish us out
Come and fight back
Need some help here
Bail us out
In up to our necks
Drenching never stops
Fish us out
Come and fight back
Need some help here
Bail us out
Had it up to here
Drenching never stops
Fish us out
Fish us out
Fish us out
Fish us out
Fish us out
And it looks enough for all of us to get soaked...
song performed by by Gomez
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I chose this Road
Truly I will lie,
Even if for a second I deny
It is for the love of money and fame, this I try
I must confess I love the two
The way you do
If not a little bit more
As I in the same breath admit as true,
I possess no allergy to the two.
But I regard as a folly
To travel the road you do
Which up to now I have been on too.
And I believe it’s difficult for you to buy
This tale that I tell
But to your heart I appeal
Hoping your vain pride this overcomes
I chose to travel this road
Because there’s a lot at stake
Something hard for some to get
After the hearts been drained
For years on end.
Money and fame we have sought
At the expense of our health and souls
And for them on friends and foes trod
Leaving behind a trail of blood and growls
poem by Ibrahim Bidu
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A Tale Has So Many Modes
A Tale has so many modes,
Sometime smiles,
And sometime hums,
Sometime scares,
And sometime is scared;
It makes us weep,
It makes us laugh,
It erases and then makes us all,
The Tale helps us in annoyance,
I have a relation with it very old.
The Tale itself is Time,
She came today but was much troubled
And said to me,
“Friend! Sassi became decrepit
Amid the sands of deserts,
And your feet are perforated
With thousand of thorns,
And the very thorns have
Pierced your heart too, but you are
Still silent even today,
Death has stamped your fingers,
The lamp that you put on the palm,
Has been put out since long,
Only ashes remain behind,
Perhaps the traveler is lost
In the prison of the route,
That is why all over silences prevail
But the Tale comes every day,
To impart a new wound
In the bleeding heart.
Note: - Sassi is a character of a romantic folk tale.
By Fakhira Batool Translated By Muhammad Shanazar
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Death Rose
red is the color of death
the rose sits in a dead garden
a boy that has no idea whats coming
owns the garden outside of his house
he picks the lonely flower and
sits it next to his fish the next
two days the fish got flushed
the boys heart was borthing
him so he went to the emergency
room
his mother brought his rose to make him
feel better
within two hours the boy died of cancer the shape
of a rose
on his grave layed the red rose and the ntohing
but dead grass layed around it
poem by Chantel McCaskill
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Double Ballad Of Life And Death
Fools may pine, and sots may swill,
Cynics gibe, and prophets rail,
Moralists may scourge and drill,
Preachers prose, and fainthearts quail.
Let them whine, or threat, or wail!
Till the touch of Circumstance
Down to darkness sink the scale,
Fate’s a fiddler, Life’s a dance.
What if skies be wan and chill?
What if winds be harsh and stale?
Presently the east will thrill,
And the sad and shrunken sail
Bellying with a kindly gale,
Bear you sunwards, while your chance
Sends you back the hopeful hail: -
‘Fate’s a fiddler, Life’s a dance.’
Idle shot or coming bill,
Hapless love or broken bail,
Gulp it (never chew your pill!)
And if Burgundy should fail,
Try the humbler pot of ail!
Over all is heaven’s expanse.
Gold’s to find among the shale,
Fate’s a fiddler, Life’s a dance.
poem by William Ernest Henley
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FootPrints In The Sand
footprints in the sand
heading that way as it
leads away it leaves a
tale.
a tale of pain a tale of sorrow
a tale of hurt a tale to be told
whispir in my ear a tale of a
new generation
a generation of determination
where love is an everyday thing
and not as rare as a blue moon
so foot prints in the sand
your tale was heard as it hit
the nation pure like solid gold
so though your mist wash away
your tale live on till today
poem by Robert Roberts
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The Fish - 0093 - Current version after Bryan Waller Procter Pre-Existence
I sit beside the spring and wish
I had a silver tail,
so up the stream my trail could swish,
sunlight upon each scale,
till by some bay my school of fish
might spot a trawler's trail,
which, followed, must tense anguish net -
woe to temptatios sail!
Who would provide a tasty dish
one morn at market sale,
fed as fritters - perish first
scales weighed upon some scale,
no dawn to spawn or to cherish?
I blubber like a whale...
the thought sends shivers, - feverish
from seashore I turn tail
such crass ambitions vanish swift -
so here I leave my tale!
(18 June 1975)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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In The Fashion
A lion has a tail and a very fine tail
And so has an elephant and so has a whale,
And so has a crocodile, and so has a quail-
They’ve all got tails but me.
If I had sixpence I would buy one;
I’d say to the shopman, ‘Let me try one’;
I’d say to the elephant, ‘This is my one.’
They’d all come round to see.
Then I’d say to the lion, ‘Why, you’ve got a tail!
And so has the elephant, and so has the whale!
And, look! There’s a crocodile! He’s got a
tail !
You’ve all got tails like me!’
poem by Alan Alexander Milne
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Tails
A lion has a tail and a very fine tail,
And so has an elephant, and so has a whale,
And so has a crocodile, and so has a quail–
They’ve all got tails but me.
If I had sixpence I would buy one;
I’d say to the shopman, ‘Let me try one’;
I’d say to the elephant, ‘This is my one.’
They’d all come round to see.
Then I’d say to the lion, ‘Why, you’ve got a tail!
And so has the elephant, and so has the whale!
And, look! There’s a crocodile! He’s got a tail!
You’ve all got tails like me!’
poem by Alan Alexander Milne
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The leader is born
What do you want to be:
the tail of a lion
or the head of a rat?
Tail is fragile and safe.
Head is a bonnet and braving.
Some are tails, and trail behind.
Some are heads, and plunge ahead.
A leader is born and not made.
31.12.2000, pmdi.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Spanish Harlem
There is a rose in spanish harlem
A rose that grows in spanish harlem
Its never seen the sun
It only comes up when the moon is on the run
And all the stars are leaving
Well, it grows right in the street
Up between the concrete
But soft and sweet, and (breathing? ? )
There is a rose in spanish harlem
A rose that grows in spanish harlem
Oh, with eyes as black as coal
That reach down in my soul
And start a fire I cant control
I beg your pardon
Well, I want to pick that rose
And watch her as she grows
In my garden
There is a rose in spanish harlem
There is a rose in spanish harlem
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Foolish Boys With Their Toys
Foolish boys with their toys
Written by Wilfred Mellers, Friday, November 23,2012
You are a foolish boy with your toys
You own the world and everyone in it
The hearts and souls you can't ever win it
Information access you spin it
You are a foolish boy with your toys
You spit hate and say you are great
You turn a blind eye when others die
Sure you can blow up the world if you want to
Tell me, then what will you do?
You are a foolish boy with your toys
When you see the world to its end
Will that mean that you are men?
Arrogant and so unwise
Surrounded by stooges to fill your heads with lies
How foolish can you be?
Masters of the world and ruler of none
Life you took solely for fun
The gun took everything you claim to own
What will you do when you are left here all alone?
You're a foolish boy with your toys
Coding your messages to the grassroots
Fictitious fantasy filled with pure untruths
So foolish and unwise
You can't even see you own demise
Foolish boys with your toys
You've gained the world yet lost your soul
The very land you stand on you stole
This very world you're going to destroy
No steeds left to herd by the cowboy
You've been very foolish boys with your toys
poem by Wilfred Mellers
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