Bartholomew
Bartholomew is very sweet,
From sandy hair to rosy feet.
Bartholomew is six months old,
And dearer far than pearls or gold.
Bartholomew has deep blue eyes,
Round pieces dropped from out the skies.
Bartholomew is hugged and kissed:
He loves a flower in either fist.
Bartholomew's my saucy son:
No mother has a sweeter one!
poem by Norman Rowland Gale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The weather worsens on Saint Bartholomew's Day.
Necrological
The friar had said his paternosters duly
And scourged his limbs, and afterwards would have slept;
But with much riddling his head became unruly,
He arose, from the quiet monastery he crept.
Dawn lightened the place where the battle had been won.
The people were dead -- it is easy he thought to die --
These dead remained, but the living were all gone,
Gone with the wailing trumps of victory.
The dead men wore no raiment against the air,
Bartholomew's men had spoiled them where they fell;
In defeat the heroes' bodies were whitely bare,
The field was white like meads of asphodel.
Not all were white; some gory and fabulous
Whom the sword had pierced and then the grey wolf eaten;
But the brother reasoned that heroes' flesh was thus.
Flesh fails, and the postured bones lie weather-beaten.
The lords of chivalry lay prone and shattered.
The gentle and the bodyguard of yeomen;
Bartholomew's stroke went home -- but little it mattered,
Bartholomew went to be stricken of other foemen.
Beneath the blue ogive of the firmament
Was a dead warrior, clutching whose mighty knees
Was a leman, who with her flame had warmed his tent,
For him enduring all men's pleasantries.
Close by the sable stream that purged the plain
Lay the white stallion and his rider thrown,
The great beast had spilled there his little brain,
And the little groin of the knight was spilled by a stone.
The youth possessed him then of a crooked blade
Deep in the belly of a lugubrious wight;
He fingered it well, and it was cunningly made;
But strange apparatus was if for a Carmelite.
Then he sat upon a hill and bowed his head
As under a riddle, and in deep surmise
So still that he likened himself unto those dead
Whom the kites of Heaven solicited with sweet cries.
poem by John Crowe Ransom
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Many of us spend our whole lives running from feeling with the mistaken belief that you cannot bear the pain. But you have already borne the pain. What you have not done is feel all you are beyond the pain.
quote by Bartholomew
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Awake Mother Africa
Awake mother Africa, awake
For you lie asleep for long
Your future is in the balance
And your dignity fades away with the passing of the days
Your children are blindfolded
And we trail destruction in ignorance
Each day, Mother Africa;
A layer of your beautiful clothing is molted away
Your heritage escapes the present generation
And the heroism of the land seems to have perished
with the death of your first sons
Mother
Are we truely your children;
And yet we show no resemblance?
Are we of your lineage;
And yet we are world apart?
Awake from your slumber Mother Africa, awake
Lest your children perish.
poem by Bartholomew Arkoh Boamah Sarbah
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Witchcraft
(words & music by bartholomew - king)
Dont do that, please stop it
Please stop it now
You know I cant take it
Please stop it now
My head is spinning a spell on me now
My head is spinning around and around
My head is spinning around and around
Your witchcraft has got me
Keep going down and down
Let me forget her, dont mention her name
You know it brings back that old burning flame
It hurts to know that she doesnt feel the same
I cant go on since she left me alone
My one desire now is to cry, now to cry
She might come back one day by and by and by
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Intolerance Part III: The St Bartholomew's Day Massacre
1572 A.D. Paris.
Brown Eyes, make me your goodnight kiss.
This last time, with the flames of life alight,
kiss me now and say goodnight,
a hand which marked so cruel,
the water soup and the morning gruel,
say goodnight and you shall see,
the gates of heaven crossed with keys.
The stars wrapped up in velvet arms,
the silver globe will be wet with tears,
your pale hand will sweep the brooks and rivers,
where the fairies cross and the creatures mix,
the nymph which lives amongst the moss.
All shall weep and bow as you pass
when the Queen of Angels breaths her last.
The tap on your door tells me our time is up.
I'll weep forever after this day
when evil and intolerance roamed.
St Bartholomew's Day in massacre-
Brown Eyes, your world is nearly over.
For you I'd trade away my soul,
for you to live a second longer.
poem by Ross Mackay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All By Myself
Antoine fats domino/dave bartholomew
1956 released 1995 the teenkings: are you ready
Well girl, dont you understand
I wanna be your lovin man
All by myself, all by myself
I dont want no one to love you
Wanna love you all by myself
Well, meet me on the corner bout half past one
Were goin out to have some fun
All by ourselves, all by ourselves
We dont need nobody with us
We can do it all by ourselves
Youre a fine little girl and you know it too
Dont you know Im in love with you
All by myself, all by myself
I dont want no one to love you
Wanna love you all by myself
Youre a fine little girl and you know it too
Dont you know Im in love with you
All by myself, all by myself
I dont want no one to love you
Wanna love you all by myself
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Night
(words & music by d. bartholomew - p. king)
One night with you
Is what Im now praying for
The things that we two could plan
Would make my dreams come true
Just call my name
And Ill be right by your side
I want your sweet helping hand
My loves too strong to hide
Always lived, very quiet life
I aint never did no wrong
Now I know that life without you
Has been too lonely too long
One night with you
Is what Im now praying for
The things that we two could plan
Would make my dreams come true
Always lived, very quiet life
I aint never did no wrong
Now I know that life without you
Has been too lonely too long
One night with you
Is what Im now praying for
The things that we two could plan
Would make my dreams come true
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Night Of Sin
(words & music by bartholomew - king)
One night of sin, yeah
Is what Im now paying for
The things I did and I saw
Would make the earth stand still
Dont call my name
It makes me feel so ashamed
I lost my sweet helping hand
I got myself to blame
Always lived, very quiet life
Aint never did no wrong
But now I know that very quiet life
Has cost me nothing but harm
One night of sin, yeah
Is what Im now paying for
The things I did and I saw
Would make the earth stand still
Always lived, very quiet life
Aint never did no wrong
But now I know that very quiet life
Has cost me nothing but harm
One night of sin, yeah
Is what Im now paying for
The things I did and I saw
Would make the earth stand still
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ain't That A Shame
Words and music by antoine domino and dave bartholomew
You made me cry when you said good-bye.
Ain't that a shame...my tears fall like rain
Ain't that a shame...you're the one to blame.
You broke my heart, now we're apart.
Ain't that a shame...my tears fall like rain
Ain't that a shame...you're the one to blame.
Ah, yes you are,
Farewell, good-bye, although i'll cry.
Ain't that a shame...my tears fall like rain
Ain't that a shame...you're the one to blame.
Ah!
You made me cry when you said good-bye.
Ain't that a shame...my tears fall like rain
Ain't that a shame...you're the one to blame.
song performed by by Cheap Trick
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poesie De Paris
Poesie de Paris
Current racing, yet the boat holds still;
moored fast beside the edges of the Seine.
Floating debris passes by, broken free
from rubbish dumped on the banks carelessly.
The ship’s bilge, rank! Disgorged
adds to the brown disturbed river.
Mistletoe Pom Poms hang unhindered
in the trees: stripped bare by winter solitude
now begins signs of being pushed aside-
to bear the inevitable advent of spring,
which will transform the rubbish
and the murky anguished water
to reveal, the reflection of the green
bedecked trees, garlanded, lining the river-
becoming a romantic dream lover once again
alive on the banks of the Seine.
The noisy strength of the engine’s wake up call,
cruising to Conflans in the misty morn, cold,
as we go, we can see the snow
resting on a distant field.
The boat joins the flow of the river
and a lone Magpie seeking the jewels of the night,
Is left behind
as we go to find the Versailles Château.
There, symmetrical flowerless boxed gardens-
apt for a cold day.
The palace in its gaudy grandeur
lures and welcomes us to view its splendour
and go away,
knowing, ’every dog has its day’.
All the Gods depicted in the ceilings- play
in heavenly grace,
While Napoleonic triumphs
(sent many to the grave)
show the apparent radiant beauty of Josephine,
when she was crowned his queen.
Ah! Charles-De- Gaulle- Etoile-
your mistresses too,
how can we view Paris tonight as you do?
In the dark The Tour Eiffel (a ‘mechano’ dream)
glistens and sparkles, feet astride,
all point towards the triumphant arc.
Where all the world’s widest roads,
go away from there, straight to the
Lights of the Night.
Straight to the paradise of fashion shops- hence,
The cat-walk fate holds the world in great suspense.
The motor car in shop windows sparkling clean;
Ferrari specials and the Grand Prix deluxe, pristine
models, till they meet the eight lane unmarked roads,
where a battle of a civil kind begins to devastate.
Straight to the Opera and the dance
where by chance, you may afford a seat.
The perfume and wine draws us near,
to savour the delights, or fear of the French cuisine.
And the fantastic fanfare of Paris by night.
Her mysteries, still, demurely garbed in mighty,
Military monuments, enhanced,
tell tales of history past,
saying give us the glory, first and last, we fought and won,
Vive La France!
By Kathleen Bartholomew (Feb 2005)
poem by Kathleen Bartholomew
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When Will Africa Unite
Down below the ground come the voices of the great heroes
The pillars of Africa in those days........
From the west come the cries of grief
From the horizon flows the blood of Africa
Children with tattered clothes roam about the the streets
Innocent people are neglected at the mercy of death
Under the African sun, nations are fighting nations
While tribes are also fighting each other for leadership
Seemingly superior and mighty ones look down on the
seemingly inferior
Brothers bury their own relatives out of hatred and jealousy,
not to talk about chieftainship
Favoritism and nepotism is the order of the day.......
Gone are the days when the forefathers were around
Those days when they were the pillars of Africa
Theirs was a plethora of sacrifice, the kind Africa is lacking now
Africa whose hope and glory is vanishing into thin air
Africa whose own people are against each other
When will Africa unite to fulfill the promise of long ago?
When will Africa learn to love and desist from hatred?
When will Africa stop and repair the destruction caused by the ignorance of her own people
Be united and defend yourself
And know that 'Together we stand; Divided we fall'.
poem by Bartholomew Arkoh Boamah Sarbah
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Monkey To Man
A long time ago, our point of view
Was broadcast by Mr. Bartholomew
And now the world is full of sorrow and pain
And it's time for us to speak up again
You're slack and sorry
Such an arrogant brood
The only purpose you serve is to bring us our food
We sit here staring at your pomp and pout
Outside the bars we use for keeping you out
You've taken everything that you wanted
Broke it up and plundered it and hunted
Ever since we said it
You went and took the credit
It's been headed this way since the world began
When a vicious creature took the jump from Monkey to Man
Monkey to Man
Every time man struggles and fails
He makes up some kind of fairytales
After all of the misery that he has caused
He denies he's descended from the dinosaurs
Points up to heaven with cathedral spires
All the time indulging in his base desires
Ever since we said it
He went and took the credit
It's been headed this way since the world began
When a vicious creature took the jump from Monkey to Man
Monkey to Man
(yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah)
Big and useless as he has become
With his crying statues and his flying bomb
Goes 'round acting like the chosen one
Excuse us if we treat him like our idiot cousin
Hangs up flowers and bells and rhymes
Hoping to hell someone's forgiven his crimes
Fills up the air with his pride and praise
He's a big disgrace to our beastly ways
In the fashionable nightclubs and finer precincts
Man uses words to dress up his vile instincts
Ever since we said it
He went and took the credit
It's been headed this way since the world began
When a vicious creature took the jump from Monkey to Man
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bible in Poetry: Gospel of St. Mark (Chapter 3)
Jesus entered the synagogue;
There stood a man with withered hand;
They waited to see if He cures
On Sabbath, so they could accuse.
Then Jesus asked the man be brought;
He asked them all, ‘which is lawful-
Doing evil or good that day?
To save life or to destroy it?
They could not answer His queries.
Then Jesus looked at them with rage,
Aggrieved by their hardness of heart:
He told the man, ‘stretch out your hand! ’
That moment, his hand got restored!
The Pharisees then went out fast,
And talked with Herodians there,
On how to put Jesus to death.
Then Jesus went towards the sea;
A lot of people followed Him
From Galilee and Judea,
Beyond Jordan, Idumea.
He asked a boat to be readied;
The crowds were surging onto Him;
When unclean spirits saw Him, then,
They fell before Him saying that,
‘You are the Son of God (aloud) .’
Jesus warned not to reveal Him.
And going up the mountain-side,
He chose his twelve apostles there,
To accompany Him and to preach
With pow’r to drive out demons too.
The twelve apostles that He chose
Were Simon, whom He named Peter;
The son of Zebedee called James;
His brother John, now Boanerges;
Andrew, Philip, Bartholomew,
Simon from Cannan and Mathew;
Thomas, James (son of Alphaeus)
Judas Iscariot, Thaddeus.
When he returned, there stood a crowd,
So huge, they could not even eat;
The scribes from Jerusalem said,
‘He is possessed by Beelzebul! ’
He drives out demons by its prince.
Summoning them, then Jesus asked,
‘Does Satan drive out next Satan? ’
A kingdom divided can’t stand!
If Satan rises on himself,
Divided, that would spell his doom!
No one enters a strong man’s house,
But plunders only with some ties!
Then Jesus said, ‘Amen, I say,
All sins will be forgiven then.
But who blasphemes against one God
And Holy Spirit, shall ne’er be!
An Eternal sin, they commit.
His mother and brothers had come.
A crowd had gathered around Him;
They said, ‘your mother, brothers wait.’
But Jesus looked at all around
And said, ‘Here are my brothers and mother! ’
For, whoev’r does the will of God
Is my brother, sister, mother!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-19-2007
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Merry Andrew
Sly Merry Andrew, the last Southwark fair;
(At Bartholomew he did not much appear,
So peevish was the dict of the Mayor)
At Southwark, therefore, as his tricks he show'd,
To please our masters, and his friends the crowd,
A huge neat's tongue he in his right hand held,
His left was with a good black pudding fill'd.
With a grave look, in this odd equipage,
The clownish mimic traverses the stage:
Why, how now, Andrew! cries his brother droll,
To-day's conceit methinks is something dull.
Come on, Sir, to our worthy friends explain
What does your emblematic Worship mean?
Quoth Andrew, honest English let us speak;
Your emble - (what d'ye call it?) is Heathen Greek.
To tongue or pudding thou hast no pretence;
Learning thy talent is, but mine is sense.
That busy fool I was which thou art now,
Desirous to correct, not knowing how,
Blaming or praising things as I thought fit:
I for this conduct had what I deserved.
And dealing honestly was almost starved.
But thanks to my indulgent stars, I eat,
Since I have found the secret to be great.
O dearest Andrew, says the humble droll,
Henceforth may I obey and thou control;
Provided thou impart thy useful skill -
Bow then, says Andrew, and for once I will.-
Be of your patron's mind, whate'er he says;
Sleep very much; think little, and talk less:
Mind neither good nor bad, nor right nor wrong,
But eat your pudding, slave, and hold your tongue.
A reverend prelate stopp'd his couch-and-six
To laugh a little at our Andrew's tricks:
But when he heard him give this golden rule,
Drive on (he cried) this fellow is no fool.
poem by Matthew Prior
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Blue Skies Bring Tears
Unleash the armageddon
So all the children go to heaven
I sit by quiet still
With their pictures on my eyes
You'll draw the guns your given
Write down the words as written
And never disturb the presense
Of resurrection touch
And it's about time
It's about drawing near
Blue skies bring tears
Blue skies bring tears
Blue skies bring tears
Descend the darkened stairway
Make hate with plastic playmates
And fire out remaining traces
Of your self esteem
Mainline the deepest secrets
Lick clean the dirty fingers
I am a stranger to you
As you are to yourself
And it's about time
It's about fear
Blue skies bring tears
Don't you want me (don't want you)
Cause I await cityside
We'll watch the seas start to die
Blue skies bring tears
Take me inside your body
Blue skies bring tears
Cover me with your soul
Blue skies bring tears
To the darkest reasons
Blue skies bring tears
Is where I wish to go
Blue skies bring tears
You are the sweetest flower
Blue skies bring tears
That I have ever devoured
Blue skies bring tears
I ask for nothing given
Blue skies bring tears
For nothing in return
Blue skies bring tears
Blue skies bring tears
Blue skies bring tears
Blue skies bring tears
Blue skies bring tears
Blue skies bring tears
Blue skies bring tears
Blue skies bring tears
Blue skies bring tears
Blue skies bring tears
Blue skies bring tears
Blue skies bring tears
Blue skies bring tears
Blue skies bring tears
Blue skies bring tears
Blue skies bring tears
song performed by by Smashing Pumpkins from Machina: The Machines Of God
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Brown Study
LET them sing of their primrose and cowslip,
Their daffodil-gold-coloured hair,
Their bluebells, blue eyes, and white violets,
All the pale dreamy things they find fair;
Give me stir of brown leaves in the sunshine,
The whir of brown wings through the wheat,
The rush of brown hares through the clover,
And the light in brown eyes of my sweet!
Gold hair? Well, I never could love it,
Yet gold, I suppose, has its worth;
The head that I love is as dusky
As the breast of our mother, the earth;
With a gleam like the shine of wet seaweed,
Round pools that the tide has left clear,
And warm like the breast of a linnet,
And as brown, is the hair of my dear.
From the edge of the cliff we look downwards
On the shore, and the bay, and the town,
And brown is the short turf we lean on,
The fishing-boats' sails are all brown:
The sky may be blue--that's the background,--
But the picture itself, to be fair,
However it's shaded and varied,
Should be brown as the dress that you wear.
A lark bursts to sudden sweet singing--
That tuft of brown grass is his home--
And now, a brown speck, he is rising
Against the clear windy sky-dome;
And he sings--how I know? Love instructs me
To know all his notes, what they mean--
That it isn't the colour I care for,
But yourself, oh, my gipsy, my queen!
Ah! the lark knows my heart--I his language;
It's my heart he sings out to the skies;
It is you that I love, and what matter
The colour of hair or of eyes?
No doubt I should love you as dearly
Were your hair like an apricot's down,
And your eyes like the grey of the morning;
But I'm glad, all the same, that they're brown.
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Singular Sangfroid Of Baby Bunting
Batholomew Benjamin Bunting
Had only three passions in life,
And one of the trio was hunting,
The others his babe and his wife.
And always, so rigid his habits,
He frolicked at home until two,
And then started hunting for rabbits,
And hunted till fall of the dew.
Belinda Bellonia Bunting,
Thus widowed for half of the day,
Her duty maternal confronting,
With baby would patiently play.
When thus was her energy wasted,
A patented food she'd dispense.
(She had bought it the day that they pasted
The posters all over her fence.)
But Bonaparte Buckingham Bunting,
The infant thus blindly adored,
Replied to her worship by grunting,
Which showed he was brutally bored.
'T was little he cared for the troubles
Of life. Like a crab on the sands,
From his sweet little mouth he blew bubbles,
And threatened the air with his hands.
Bartholomew Benjamin Bunting
One night, as his wife let him in,
Produced as the fruit of his hunting
A cottontail's velvety skin,
Which, seeing young Bonaparte wriggle,
He gave him without a demur,
And the babe with an aqueous giggle
He swallowed the whole of the fur!
Belinda Bellonia Bunting
Behaved like a consummate loon:
Her offspring in frenzy confronting
She screamed herself mottled maroon:
She felt of his vertebrae spinal,
Expecting he'd surely succomb,
And gave him one vigorous, final,
Hard prod in the pit of his tum.
But Bonaparte Buckingham Bunting,
At first but a trifle perplexed,
By a change in his manner of grunting
Soon showed he was horribly vexed.
He displayed not a sign of repentance
But spoke, in a dignified tone,
The only consecutive sentence
He uttered. 'T was: 'Lemme alone.'
The Moral: The parent that uses
Precaution his folly regrets:
An infant gets all that he chooses,
An infant chews all that he gets.
And colics? He constantly has 'em
So long as his food is the best,
But he'll swallow with never a spasm
What ostriches couldn't digest.
poem by Guy Wetmore Carryl
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sweet Emotion
Seems every star is out tonight to light our love
So round the moon so full and bright so high above
But if you look real closely theres only me, theres only you
And when you hold me closely, yeah
And now the sky melts in the sea like they are one
Its hard to tell where one first starts and where ends one
Thats the way our love is
You part of me me part of you
Thats just what love is
Sweet you got the sweetest emotion, baby
Sweet, sweet emotion
Sweet you got the sweetest emotion
Sweeter than sweet
Sweeter than sweet
Sweeter than sweet
You took me from the surface to a deeper deep
Showing me that you
And you are life for me
Our love will last forever
Me loving you, you loving me
Well always be together oh
Sweet you got the sweetest emotion
Sweet, sweet emotion
Sweet, sweet emotion
Sweet you got the sweetest emotion
Sweeter than sweet
Sweeter than sweet
Sweeter than sweet
Sweet, you got the sweetest emotion
Sweet, you got the sweetest emotion
Listen baby
Listen to me
Sweeter than sweet
Sweeter than sweet
Sweeter than sweet
You got the sweet emotion, yeah
Listen to me
song performed by by Donna Summer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thou Blue Flower
I jump from 1 guy 2 another but, you were the 1 I wanted to keep forever...
Thou blue flower that i wear on my shirt, Thou blue flower that i wear on my skirt...
Thou blue flower that i wear for him, Thou blue flower that wants to sin...
The me that loves him, the he that loves me, But still i want him...
Thou blue flower so clam so numbing, Thou blue flower like a plum of knowing...
Thou blue flower that I'm singing to, Thou blue flower that wants him to!
The me that wants him,
The me that loves him,
The me that will always be their for him.
poem by Naazia Thomas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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