Cupid In Ambush
It oft to many has successful been
Upon his arm to let his mistress lean,
Or with her airy fan to cool her heat,
Or gently squeeze her knees, or press her feet.
All public sports to favour young desire,
With opportunities like this conspire.
E'en where his skill the gladiator shows,
With human blood where the Arena flows,
There oftentimes Love's quiver-bearing boy
Prepares his bow and arrows to destroy;
While the spectator gazes on the sight,
And sees them wound each other with delight;
While he his pretty mistress entertains,
And wagers with her who the conquest gains,
Slily the god takes aim, and hits his heart,
And in the wounds he sees he bears his part.
poem by Matthew Prior
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To His lady,
IMPLORING HER TO BE TRUE
MISTRESS of me, mistress of all the arts
And charms that sway men's hot ungoverned hearts,
Receive their tribute--smile at their defeat;
I do not ask that you should spare them, sweet.
Only I ask that in the secret shrine
No prayers be heard, no offering laid, but mine.
Each man who sees your eyes must needs lay down
Low at your feet the votive myrtle crown:
Let them bring crowns to die beneath your feet;
I, only I, must bring the crown you wear
Shadowing the sombre glory of your hair.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Whodunnit?
Providence? It's 'What the Butler Saw' -
and ever sees, and ever shall have seen:
the One who knows what's needed long before,
and sees that it's delivered at the scene;
prepares it for the feast of human life;
presents it in due style at this repast;
then, in the festive moment, stands aloof,
invisible to him who plays the host;
sees that new dishes come, and plates removed
- fleet opportunities that come and go;
unseen- unless His presence sought and proved;
unspeaking, silent - unless spoken to.
Whodunnit? why, the butler, since you ask,
named Providence: God's world, and Word, and task.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Bears No ill Will
The eye bears no ill will
And the ear no evil intentions
These the heart alone bears.
The eye sees what it sees
And the ear what it hears
And without prejudice
The mind analyzes
And the heart judges
Afterwards, the eye, the ear
They learn to discriminate
poem by Oyekake Satty Joshua
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Love's Diet
TO what a cumbersome unwieldiness
And burdenous corpulence my love had grown,
But that I did, to make it less,
And keep it in proportion,
Give it a diet, made it feed upon
That which love worst endures, discretion
Above one sigh a day I allow'd him not,
Of which my fortune, and my faults had part;
And if sometimes by stealth he got
A she sigh from my mistress' heart,
And thought to feast upon that, I let him see
'Twas neither very sound, nor meant to me.
If he wrung from me a tear, I brined it so
With scorn and shame, that him it nourish'd not;
If he suck'd hers, I let him know
'Twas not a tear which he had got;
His drink was counterfeit, as was his meat;
For eyes, which roll towards all, weep not, but sweat.
Whatever he would dictate I writ that,
But burnt her letters when she writ to me;
And if that favour made him fat,
I said, "If any title be
Convey'd by this, ah! what doth it avail,
To be the fortieth name in an entail?"
Thus I reclaim'd my buzzard love, to fly
At what, and when, and how, and where I choose.
Now negligent of sports I lie,
And now, as other falconers use,
I spring a mistress, swear, write, sigh, and weep;
And the game kill'd, or lost, go talk or sleep.
poem by John Donne
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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All Hail My Dear Mistress I
My dear mistress
People comment on you
Even in my presence
Your love in me is hard to take away
People respect me
Because of you
Your succulent lips
Makes me go crazy
My dear mistress
Your love in me
Is like a precious seed planted
That is hard to uproot
My dear mistress
I am happy and sad
Because I fear for the future
That we missed out on each other
My dear mistress
Oh lord!
I wish you prepared her for me
To marry in future
I wish she mothered my future children
My dear mistress.
poem by Tolulope Modupe
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This Gal
This gal shall do what she's always done,
listen to the rain and wait for the sun.
This gal is inspired by what she sees.
She's also inspired by the birds and bees.
This gal is happy she's a woman in love.
She knows what she feels that takes her above
this world that is always in chaos and turmoil.
Sometimes what she sees makes her blood boil.
This gal is sad at the end of the day
if love and laughter has not come her way.
She's a creature of joy and incredible delight.
This gal's in love with morning and night.
And who in the world can this gal be?
Why! haven't you guessed? This gal is me.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun (Sonnet 130)
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress when she walks treads on the ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.
poem by William Shakespeare
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Sonnet 130: My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks,
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know,
That music hath a far more pleasing sound.
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress when she walks treads on the ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.
poem by William Shakespeare
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Dunne Studying.
Dunne watches her mistress sleep.
There is the flickering of the eyelids
As if in dream. She gets out of bed
And with soft tread walks to her
Mistress’s bed side and looks down.
She holds her breath. She takes in
Each aspect of the face and neck
And how the hair is spread upon
The pillow. She wants to lean down
And kiss the lips, put flesh to flesh.
She hovers like some hawk waiting
To fly down and take her fine prey.
She breathes out slowly. She watches
The rise and fall of her mistress’s breast.
She moves out a hand to lay it there
But does not touch. She imagines so.
Imagines also climbing into the bed
And snuggling up close and kissing
The nape of neck. Her hand lingers
Over the breasts. Her eyes greedily
Study the soft cheek. She breathes
In deep. Her heart pounds within her
Breast. So near so near. She imagines
Lying within those arms and feeling
The hands caress her back. Her mistress
Stirs and she moves away. Walks back
To her own bed to await the light of day.
poem by Terry Collett
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The mistress
Mistresses save men from bad marriages.
Mistresses break marriages that are smooth.
However, the word mistress still suggests
A sleazy liaison devoid of respect.
To have mistress stems from carnal desire.
A triumph or extravaganza can induce.
Desire to conquer a new territory
That lets them sow wild oats there, rules in men.
Mistress is branded as other woman
And is hated by all other women,
However worth she is or however
Beneficial her connection is.
However, the society gives lineage
To the mistress who is popular or
Whose custodian is all powerful,
And hails their relationship, dumping wives.
Affluent mistresses aren’t branded
As a man stealer or a home wrecker.
Rather, their power of being a temptress
Gathers more charm and wipe out wives’ presence.
03.06.2011
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Telegram
Darling girl, will you love me now
That I’ve left you far behind me,
I took the plane in the driving rain
And I doubt that you could find me,
I left the part of my heart behind
That all my love was laid in,
And found that all of my life with you
Was the part I should have stayed in.
Mistress mine, will you miss the touch
Of a man whose miss is touching
The silken skin of a mistress sin
Whose sin was trust in trusting.
Be still, be sure of your faith in one
Who knows your own sweet sorrow,
And watch for me in the sky tonight
For I may be home tomorrow.
9 July 1974
poem by David Lewis Paget
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A spectator sees more than a player in the heat of a game.
My Name Is Qalme-Tari
My name is Qalme-Tari
Mistress of Death.
Were I go
People will follow.
My name is Qalme-Tari
Mistress of Death.
Were I go
Death follows.
My name is Qalme-Tari
Mistress of Death.
I bring death
Upon people of injustice.
My name is Qalme-Tari
Mistress of Death.
Death for people of injustice.
Tyrants beware!
My name is Qalme-Tari
Mistress of Death.
Dictators beware
I come for thee.
My name is Qalme-Tari
Mistress of Death.
Kidnapers beware
I come for thee.
My name is Qalme-Tari
Mistress of Death.
Child abusers beware
I come for thee.
My name is Qalme-Tari
Mistress of Death.
For those of injustice
I am Death.
My name is Estela
Mistress of Hope
For those of purity
I am Hope
My name is Qalme-Tari
Mistress of Death.
The in just
Shall flee before me.
My name is Estela
Mistress of Hope
The pure
Shall follow me.
My name is Qalme-Tari
Mistress of Death.
My name is Estela
Mistress of Hope
Were I go
People will flee.
Were I go
People will follow.
I am Qalme Tari Mistress of Death Nat. Norville.
Cretics Welcome
poem by Athena Goddess of Wisdom Lumis Light to all
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Soldiers to Sportsmen!
Fighting spirit never dies in man!
Man never sees wonder of his life;
Physical form of man is a miracle
That should be put to best use...!
This he has to remember before
Fight to the last to destroy all....!
Perhaps sports is created well
To satisfy warring talent for good!
Valour was decided by fight earlier....;
Fight was turned into sports in arena
That slowly turned into Olympic game
Starting from spear fight on horse back!
Soldiers turned into chivalrous knights,
Gladiators, national cadet corps, athletes,
Soccer, cricket and base ball players.....
Surely are far better than war soldiers!
poem by Ramesh T A
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The Choice
PLAGUE take the dull and dusty town,
Its paved and sordid mazes,
Now Spring has trimmed her pretty gown
With buttercups and daisies!
With half my heart I long to lie
Among the flowered grasses,
And hear the loving leaves that sigh
As their sweet Mistress passes.
Through picture-shows I make my way
While flower-crowned maids go maying,
And all the cultured things I say
That cultured folk are saying.
For I renounce Spring's darling face,
With may-bloom fresh upon it:
My Mistress lives in Grosvenor-place
And wears a Bond-street bonnet!
poem by Edith Nesbit
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One From The Heart
Im movin too fast, the pace of things has got to change
I never have time to think of words I want to say
I look around me, I dont know who really knows
What does it matter anyway?
Sometimes I feel like Ive got a heart made out of stone
And somedays I feel so alone
When nobody sees whats going on anymore
If I could just know that someones there
One from the heart thats all it takes
One to hold you, one who knows you
One to one together
One from the heart, one for each day
One to lean on, one to keep on
Keep on getting stronger the more I see your face
Its never too late to get to where I want to go
Its never too late to get to love someone
All that I need is to be more than yesterday
And all I can give along the way
One from the heart thats all it takes
One to hold you, one who knows you
One to one together
One from the heart, one for each day
One to lean on, one to keep on
The words you will remember
The words youll hear me say
Its all about love
Its all about give and take
song performed by by Chicago
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What We Teach Our Children By: Cay Thorne
If a child sees abuse in any form -
They will become abusers in any form;
If a child sees love;
They become lovers and romantics at heart
If a child sees loyalty and trust;
They know how to be loyal and trustworthy.
If a child sees hatred to all things and humans
They will live without love and kindness.
If a child knows encouragement and praise;
They will show encouragement and praise to all.
If a child sees peace and happiness;
They will show love and happiness to all mankind.
If a child sees violence;
They learn to be violent to anything and everything.
If a child sees bullying at home as a victim;
They become a criminal to satisfy the hunger.
If a child sees charity;
They learn to show charity to others.
If a child sees you help others in need;
They become helpers to all in need.
If a child learns how to be raciest in all forms of the word;
They WILL learn the true meaning of racism and hatred –
Which shows non of the virtues;
That we need to live with to stop;
All the kinds of EVIL in this world today.
If a child sees all the virtues that are out there in the world today;
They will show these virtues to all mankind and no matter who the person is.
poem by Cay Thorne
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Hear the words of prudence, give heed unto her counsels, and store them in thine heart; her maxims are universal, and all the virtues lean upon her; she is the guide and the mistress of human life.
A pond fly
A pond fly gazes up
And sees the day erupt
I don't want to be eaten
My wings plucked
Can't I dry them on the wing?
And hear the clarion of wind
Before bearing
On my song to sing!
poem by Mark Heathcote
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A cock’s triumph
A woman refuses to yield
To a man as in him she sees a cock
That will flap his wings with triumph
Over his down trod mistress after.
08.10.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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