Day and Night
To mourn the death of yesterday is vile,
To see the day turn into night may see
Why roses have their quality so free
Of nature’s weeping and very aisle.
The death of day comes foremost to beguile,
As to beguile means always the genie
Has come to offer you his brewery,
A mix of wishes to be that servile.
To be that quick, a wish is granted right,
The night has spoken right and now justice,
The need for nights is huge, enlightenment!
The day dissolves to leave the wishful night,
A beautiful delight, quite enormous,
Due justly to my wish so imminent.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Related quotes
A Little Merman (Fun Poem 51)
Just beyond the reef
where the little fishes swim
there lives a little merman
and his name is Gunga Din.
He frolics in the ocean
from morning to night,
playing with the mermaids
is his hearts delight.
One day while playing
on the ocean floor
Gunga din found a bottle
with a Genie trapped within.
He opened the bottle
and set the Genie free.
The Genie then said to him.
“Three wishes I now grant to thee.”
“Three wishes? What are those? ”
Gunga Din asked the Genie.
“Wishes are made
for anything you want,
and then I will make them come true.”
“But I have no need for wishes.
I have everything my heart desires.”
“But surely there is something
that you would like most of all? ”
Gunga Din shook his head.
“There is nothing I require.”
“Nothing? ” Asked the Genie.
“Nothing.” Gunga Din replied.
“You see Mr Genie
I have everything I need.
I am completely satisfied
with everything I have got.”
“The oceans are my gardens
to play around all day within.
I have plenty of friends
to keep me company.
So what do I need your wishes for?
I have everything I’ll ever need.”
“But I must grant you three wishes
for setting me free
and If you won’t take the wishes
I cannot be free.“
Gunga thought for a moment.
This cannot be right.
Everyone must be free
to do as they wish.
“Get back in the bottle, Mr Genie.
I’ll take you to some distant sandy shore.
I’ll put you on the beach
for someone to find.
I’m sure in that greedy world out there,
that there is someone
who will take up your wishes
and set you free.
28 December 2007
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Genie Genie
In the beautiful
Las Vegas Nevada
a genie granted me
three wishes
he promised to do
as I please
if i could ensure
his release
glancing up something
caught my eye
a star trailing across
the sky
it's beautiful, he whispered
in my ear
come on make
your wishes dear
with a feeling of
ecstatic glee
he knew he would
soon be free
my dream was about
to come true
thanks to the genie
dressed in blue
dear genie my first
wish is to meet
the man whose voice
brings happiness to me
for my second wish
his smile I wish to see
my third wish is to win a
fortune in Vegas
consider it done the genie
said with a smile
poem by Rachel Nichols
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I will beguile him with the tongue
Reason says, “ I will beguile him with the tongue.”; Love says,
“Be silent. I will beguile him with the soul.”
The soul says to the heart, “Go, do not laugh at me and yourself.
What is there that is not his, that I may beguile him
thereby?”
He is not sorrowful and anxious and seeking oblivion that I
may beguile him with wine and a heavy measure.
The arrow of his glance needs not a bow that I should beguile
the shaft of his gaze with a bow.
He is not prisoner of the world, fettered to this world of earth,
that I should beguile him with gold of the kingdom of the world.
He is an angel, though in form he is a man; he is not lustful
that I should beguile him with women.
Angels start away from the house wherein this form is, so how
should I beguile him with such a form and likeness?
He does not take a flock of horses, since he flies on wings; his
food is light, so how should I beguile him with bread?
He is not a merchant and trafficker in the market of the world
that I should beguile him with enchantment of grain and loss.
He is not veiled that I should make myself out sick and utter
sighs, to beguile him with lamentation.
I will bind my head and bow my head, for I have got out of
hand; I will not beguile his compassion with sickness or fluttering.
Hair by hair he sees my crookedness and feigning; what’s
hidden from him that I should beguile him with anything hidden.
He is not a seeker of fame, a prince addicted to poets, that I
should beguile him with verses and lyrics and flowing poetry.
The glory of the unseen form is too great for me to beguile it
with blessing or Paradise.
Shams-e Tabriz, who is his chosen and beloved–perchance I
will beguile him with this same pole of the age.
Reason says love says
Reason says, “ I will beguile him with the tongue.”; Love says,
“Be silent. I will beguile him with the soul.”
The soul says to the heart, “Go, do not laugh at me and yourself.
What is there that is not his, that I may beguile him
thereby?”
He is not sorrowful and anxious and seeking oblivion that I
may beguile him with wine and a heavy measure.
The arrow of his glance needs not a bow that I should beguile
the shaft of his gaze with a bow.
He is not prisoner of the world, fettered to this world of earth,
that I should beguile him with gold of the kingdom of the world.
He is an angel, though in form he is a man; he is not lustful
that I should beguile him with women.
Angels start away from the house wherein this form is, so how
should I beguile him with such a form and likeness?
He does not take a flock of horses, since he flies on wings; his
food is light, so how should I beguile him with bread?
He is not a merchant and trafficker in the market of the world
that I should beguile him with enchantment of grain and loss.
He is not veiled that I should make myself out sick and utter
sighs, to beguile him with lamentation.
I will bind my head and bow my head, for I have got out of
hand; I will not beguile his compassion with sickness or fluttering.
Hair by hair he sees my crookedness and feigning; what’s
hidden from him that I should beguile him with anything hidden.
He is not a seeker of fame, a prince addicted to poets, that I
should beguile him with verses and lyrics and flowing poetry.
The glory of the unseen form is too great for me to beguile it
with blessing or Paradise.
Shams-e Tabriz, who is his chosen and beloved–perchance I
will beguile him with this same pole of the age.
Last Night I Played Poker With Death
Last night
I played poker with death.
It was a long night
and I wanted to win the game
but I did not win.
And now
I can see from the distance
the erecting hair of sunrise
so pale, but it's golden.
And I see my wife
weeping and weeping
and weeping...
beside my dead body.
I want to embrace her
but this light from above
is lifting me up
higher....and higher.
Last night
I played poker with death
and I did not win.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Night-Night (Children)
Night-night moon
Night-night stars
Night-night noisy
trucks and cars.
Night-night sand box
Night-night toys
Night-night other
girls and boys.
Night-night mom
Night-night dad
Night-night Boogie Man
who's not bad.
It's time to go to sleep now,
most all my night nights said.
Night-night blankie
Night-night bed.
Roses
Oh, wind of the spring-time, oh, free wind of May,
When blossoms and bird-song are rife;
Oh, joy for the season, and joy for the day,
That gave me the roses of life, of life,
That gave me the roses of life.
Oh, wind of the summer, sing loud in the night,
When flutters my heart like a dove;
One came from thy kingdom, thy realm of delight,
And gave me the roses of love, of love,
And gave me the roses of love.
Oh, wind of the winter, sigh low in thy grief,
I hear thy compassionate breath;
I wither, I fall, like the autumn-kissed leaf,
He gave me the roses of death, of death,
He gave me the roses of death.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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You Can't Hurry The Night
You can't hurry the night
Because the night will stay around as long as she wants
And we are not the boss of the night
Because the boss of the night is God and nobody else
But you just have to wait for the night to leave us
You can't hurry the night
Eventhought the night is long
You can't hurry the night becuse the night might be even cold during The winter nights that you might even freeze to death
But you just have to put some long underwear and you will be fine When you sleep in your bed
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Night of Nights
‘Twas deep; so deep of night,
When I saw what I had seen -
So truly deep of night,
When I went where I had been,
And really deep of night,
When I heard what I had heard:
Perhaps a fox or badger,
Or a sort of night-time bird.
‘Twas late that night of nights,
When something there was there -
So very late that night of nights,
Where that thing was where -
'Twas deep of night of nights,
When it ran to where it ran:
Perhaps a stoat or Billy goat,
Or ghostly little man.
‘Twas in the night of night of nights,
When something scary caused a scare -
So late of night of night of nights,
When something hairy raised my hair -
The deep of night of night of nights…
So don't you wonder what it was?
Well I never really truly saw it -
Why? Because because!
‘Twas in the night of night of night of nights
Oh I've had enough!
Night night.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
Night night, night night
Night night, night night
Night night
night
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Night After Night
by Bob Dylan
Night after night you wander the streets of my mind.
Night after night don't know what you think you will find.
No place to go, nowhere to turn,
Everything around you seems to burn, burn, burn.
And there's never any mercy night after night.
Night after night
Night after night
Night after night some new plan to blow up the world.
Night after night another old man kissing some young girl.
You look for salvation, you find none.
Just another broken heart, another barrel of a gun,
Just another stick of dynamite night after night.
Night after night
Night after night
Night after night you drop dead in your bed,
Night after night another bottle finds a head.
Night after night I think about cutting you loose
But I just can't do it, what would be the use?
So I just keep a holding you tight night after night.
Night after night
Night after night
Night after night
Night after night
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Cannot Say What Death Is
I CANNOT SAY WHAT DEATH IS
I cannot say what Death is
Or what it means
Or whether it means anything
I cannot say what Death is.
One day a person you care about is here
And then they are not.
One day I will not be here too
And others will mourn for me.
Death is Cruel
And Death is Evil
And Death is the End of Each of us
God curse Death
And let us never say goodbye to those we love.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Beautiful Night
Beautiful night, how the stars, they so clearly shine
And the joyful moon how it mirrors back my smile
Oh, beautiful night, you're good to a heart like mine
Oh, beautiful night, you've made this long road worthwhile
Beautiful night, glow of the city behind me
Smile, I, with my heart at peace and my mind at ease
Oh, beautiful night, tranquility sets me free
Oh, beautiful night, I dream of moments like these
Beautiful night and all seems so right with the world
Questions come later; decisions, future doth hold
Oh, beautiful night, for now I watch the sky twirl
Oh, beautiful night, I wait for light to behold
Yet, in the stillness of evening I dream these dreams
That the beauty of this night is all that it seems
poem by Danny Speicher
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The Beauty Of Nature's Wonders
The beauty of Nature is all around me
And every day in Nature such wonders to see
Within view of land above the sea the gannets fly
For their small marine prey they plunge down from the sky.
On moonlit nights in late Winter coming up to the Spring
In the Townpark the male magpies warble and sing
With breeding territories to defend in their nesting time of the year
Their beautiful songs are melodious and clear.
The beauty of Nature's wonders by day and by night
A source of amazement and a source of delight
And our sheer awe of Nature as we age only grow
And so little of her ways we do seem to know.
Were I born a poet of Nature I would write
Poems at poetry readings that readers would recite
Of the creatures of night and the creatures of day
Who live as Nature means them to live in their natural way
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Widower
She left him in death's egg,
the bone sack & the gunny sack,
the bag of down & feathers-all black . . .
Somehow he couldn't get back.
It was night,
a night of shark-faced jets
winking brighter than blue stars,
a night of poisoned cities
mushrooming beneath the eyes of jets,
a night of missile silos
sulking in the desert,
a night of babies howling in the alleys,
a night of cats.
She left a death so huge
his life got lost in it.
She left a bloodstained egg
he had to hatch.
poem by Erica Jong
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On The First Of Seven's Night
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
for the world, ag'n christmas sight
on the first of seven's night
when the light of heaven is light
it's the world of two thousand seven bright
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
see, she is smiling in alone
ah! in love she is gone
'n' now she has got the tone
to say! to wish a new morn..ing
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
oh! it's the hit of 12'o clock
but who are they in morning flock
look it's you 'n' that is me
in between it's bond of thee
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
hey! who is playing these notes so cute
it must be octaves from lord krishnas flute
no! on the first of seven with the rythm inherent
a boy to a girl with the happys of heaven
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
and you! what are you doing over here
go to the fields and harvest your share
my blackberrys ripen with the dawn of the sun
hares and birds may already be having there fun
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
poem by Amit Ranjan
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Death and I
When death comes
I’ll need not love –
Consumed,
No wreath or dove
Could offer me salvation,
Not when I’m no more.
A weathered stone will bear my name –
Identity of once a being
Living out existence in
A world of risk, and never seeing
Sense of why we’re here.
My genes will die away thro’ child –
Hue of eyes and hair, the way of thought,
Will quickly dim with generation –
Bow to future dominance –
Memories of provenance
Resigned to curious few.
When death comes
I’ll need not grace
Below; no grieving face
Will call my resurrection,
Not when I’m at ground –
Death and I so bound.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
D eath Crawl
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death death death death death death death death death death death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Disingenuousness
Here lies another box for nature,
Carbon ready;
Black to eyes down here,
Where death is at its job.
Up there you’ll hear a rhythmic sob
Or two from living yet-to-dies –
A humming lacrimoso –
It all but cleans the eyes:
Forget it –
The dismal show of grief –
Life is only chemistry –
Our stay is only brief.
It’s we who hype it up!
Diaphragms jerk again;
The jet monotone of hearses
Feeds the disingenuousness
Of undertakers –
They seem to stare at something up ahead –
For them, it’s in the blood,
To taxi off the dead.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
The March of Death
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Death death death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death death death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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I call your name in the Night
I call your name in the night
Hoping, mercy will be granted on this soul
And you will come to me.
I call your name in the night
All I hear is the whisper of the wind.
And you still don’t come to me.
I call your name in the night
All I see is the moonlight
And you still don’t come to me.
I call your name in the night
All I taste are the almonds from Aphrodite’s presence
And you still don’t come to me.
I call your name in the night
All I smell are the fresh roses
And you still don’t come to me.
I call your name in the night
All I feel is the emptiness your absence has banished me to
And you still don’t come to me.
I call your name in the night
Until my senses became numb
And faded away
You still don’t come to me!
poem by Alejandra Olivas
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Death of a fine romance
Death of a fine romance
~
I had held onto my heart
For as long as humanly possible
But eventually I had to let go
The lonely nights I faced
The times I saw those I liked
Those I believed I may love
Slip beyond my reach
Each night had took its toll
Either they had found someone else
Or rejected my advances
How my heart hurt then cried
Each and every night
How could I keep the pretence
That I was ok with love
When love was absent to me
Eventually the lonely nights
They became too much
Eventually the breaking heart
More than I cared to contend with
Now I am sitting here alone
Drinking to mourn a loss
The death of a fine romance
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Is Night gentle?
Night closes doors forever
Night cures my soul as a medicine
In Night should’nt be doubted ever
Night sense increases to everything
At Night you can shed your tears
At night we are flying to planets
At Night always deadens fears
At Night we are full of violence
At Night you will close embraces –
And Night this caress will cover
At Night you’ll remove your dresses
And God blesses you, my lover
In Night rises dizziness and passion
At Night you’re with itself alone
At Night - reign, you’re free in action
At Night nothing keeps in your soul
Night reconciles spirits, right you’re
At Night it is useless to wager
In Night it is stuffy and frightful
Tonight I shall leave you like voyager...
poem by Markelov Vladimir
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