Similes For Two Political Characters of 1819
I.
As from an ancestral oak
Two empty ravens sound their clarion,
Yell by yell, and croak by croak,
When they scent the noonday smoke
Of fresh human carrion:--
II.
As two gibbering night-birds flit
From their bowers of deadly yew
Through the night to frighten it,
When the moon is in a fit,
And the stars are none, or few:--
III.
As a shark and dog-fish wait
Under an Atlantic isle,
For the negro-ship, whose freight
Is the theme of their debate,
Wrinkling their red gills the while--
IV.
Are ye, two vultures sick for battle,
Two scorpions under one wet stone,
Two bloodless wolves whose dry throats rattle,
Two crows perched on the murrained cattle,
Two vipers tangled into one.
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Related quotes
Song Of The Croaker
An old frog lived in a dismal swamp,
In a dismal kind of way;
And all that he did, whatever befell,
Was to croak the livelong day.
Croak, croak, croak,
When darkness filled the air,
And croak, croak, croak,
When the skies were bright and fair.
'Good Master Frog, a battle is fought,
And the foeman's power is broke.'
But he only turned a greener hue,
And answered with a croak.
Croak, croak, croak,
When the clouds are dark and dun,
And croak, croak, croak,
In the blaze of the noontide sun.
'Good Master Frog, the forces of right
Are driving the hosts of wrong.'
But he gave his head an ominous shake,
And croaked out, 'Nous verrons!'
Croak, croak, croak,
Till the heart is full of gloom,
And croak, croak, croak,
Till the world seems but a tomb.
To poison the cup of life,
By always dreading the worst.
Is to make of the earth a dungeon damp,
And the happiest life accursed.
Croak, croak, croak,
When the noontide sun rides high,
And croak, croak, croak,
Lest the night come by and by.
Farewell to the dismal frog;
Let him croak as loud as he may,
He cannot blot the sun from heaven,
Nor hinder the march of day,
Though he croak, croak, croak,
Till the heart is full of gloom,
And croak, croak, croak,
Till the world seems but a tomb.
poem by Horatio Alger Jr
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Its Croaking Shows Its Presence! !
The croaking echoes through the neighborhood,
the blasting croaking echoes as braying,
sometimes as barking, another time as whistling,
the sounds of croaking may crack our heads,
in the tropical region where it rains,
every other day and musical begins,
with the mono syllabic cricket,
house lizards join them occasionally,
The frogs repeats one day and one night,
as the Native American folklore says,
brother sun agreed and the bear hibernated,
the frogs repeat one day and one night,
it may not be alive the next day,
unnecessary croaking,
is being heard by something,
that slithers and hungry,
its croaking showed its presence,
right to the mouth of that reptile.
In the middle of the meetings,
some of us croak to show our presence,
Croak the wrong information,
out of our peanut brains,
sometimes we croak in the viva verse,
mostly something the invigilators unaware,
fail us then and there,
keeping quiet, sometimes good,
people assume that we know many things,
Politicians croak,
clergies croak,
our teachers croak,
our parents croak,
our children croak,
you and I croak,
our nature make us to croak,
most of the times we get caught,
because we croak a lot.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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A Bird’s-Eye View
'Croak, croak, croak,'
Thus the Raven spoke,
Perched on his crooked tree
As hoarse as hoarse could be.
Shun him and fear him,
Lest the Bridegroom hear him;
Scout him and rout him
With his ominous eye about him.
Yet, 'Croak, croak, croak,'
Still tolled from the oak;
From that fatal black bird,
Whether heard or unheard:
'O ship upon the high seas,
Freighted with lives and spices,
Sink, O ship,' croaked the Raven:
'Let the Bride mount to heaven.'
In a far foreign land,
Upon the wave-edged sand,
Some friends gaze wistfully
Across the glittering sea.
'If we could clasp our sister,'
Three say, 'now we have missed her!'
'If we could kiss our daughter!'
Two sigh across the water.
Oh, the ship sails fast
With silken flags at the mast,
And the home-wind blows soft;
But a Raven sits aloft,
Chuckling and choking,
Croaking, croaking, croaking:—
Let the beacon-fire blaze higher;
Bridegroom, watch; the Bride draws nigher.
On a sloped sandy beach,
Which the spring-tide billows reach,
Stand a watchful throng
Who have hoped and waited long:
'Fie on this ship, that tarries
With the priceless freight it carries.
The time seems long and longer:
O languid wind, wax stronger;'—
Whilst the Raven perched at ease
Still croaks and does not cease,
One monotonous note
Tolled from his iron throat:
'No father, no mother,
But I have a sable brother:
He sees where ocean flows to,
And he knows what he knows, too.'
A day and a night
They kept watch worn and white;
A night and a day
For the swift ship on its way:
For the Bride and her maidens
—Clear chimes the bridal cadence—
For the tall ship that never
Hove in sight for ever.
On either shore, some
Stand in grief loud or dumb
As the dreadful dread
Grows certain though unsaid.
For laughter there is weeping,
And waking instead of sleeping,
And a desperate sorrow
Morrow after morrow.
Oh, who knows the truth,
How she perished in her youth,
And like a queen went down
Pale in her royal crown:
How she went up to glory
From the sea-foam chill and hoary,
From the sea-depth black and riven
To the calm that is in Heaven?
They went down, all the crew,
The silks and spices too,
The great ones and the small,
One and all, one and all.
Was it through stress of weather,
Quicksands, rocks, or all together?
Only the Raven knows this,
And he will not disclose this.—
After a day and year
The bridal bells chime clear;
After a year and a day
The Bridegroom is brave and gay:
Love is sound, faith is rotten;
The old Bride is forgotten:—
Two ominous Ravens only
Remember, black and lonely.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Frogs in chorus
The chorus frogs in the big lagoon
Would sing their songs to the silvery moon.
Tenor singers were out of place,
For every frog was a double bass.
But never a human chorus yet
Could beat the accurate time they set.
The solo singer began the joke;
He sang, "As long as I live I'll croak,
Croak, I'll croak,"
And the chorus followed him: "Croak, croak, croak!"
The poet frog, in his plaintive tone,
Sang of a sorrow was all his own;
"How shall I win to my heart's desire?
How shall I feel my spirit's fire?"
And the solo frog in his deepest croak,
"To fire your spirit," he sang, "eat coke,
Coke, eat coke,"
And the chorus followed him: "Coke, coke, coke!"
The green frog sat in a swampy spot
And he sang the song of he knew not what.
"The world is rotten, oh cursed plight,
That I am the frog that must set it right.
How shall I scatter the shades that lurk?"
And the old man bullfrog sang, "Get work,
Work, get work,"
And the chorus followed him: "Work, work, work!"
The soaring spirits that fain would fly
On wings of hope to the starry sky
Must face the snarls of the jealous dogs,
For the world is ruled by its chorus frogs.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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Whither Traveller
Rattle fall rat grey rain,
Lightning torches only the sky,
Earthly feet gropes as braille
Soul's way in night's darkness.
Steamed stew, warm bed, light,
All not me, recedes
Save soaked wood scent
And the crow's croak
Or forest's voice in crow's accent-
Pure cosmology of perfection,
Where began creation
Beyond man's invention-
Dawn opening out to nature,
Reveals this morning of life.
poem by Yoonoos Peerbocus
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Rebel Yell
Last night a little dancer
Came dancin to my door
Last night a little angel
Came pumping on the floor
She said a come baby
Ive got a license for love
And if it expires
Pray help from above
Because
In the midnight hour
She cried more, more, more
With a rebel yell
She cried more, more, more
Owww
In the midnight hour, babe
More, more, more
With a rebel yell
More, more, more
More, more, more
She dont like slavery
She wont sit and beg
But when Im tired and lonely
She sees me to bed
What set you free
And brought you to me, babe
What set you free
I need you here by me
Because
In the midnight hour
She cried more, more, more
With a rebel yell
She cried more, more, more
Wowww
In the midnight hour, babe
More, more, more
With a rebel yell
More, more, more
He lives in his own heaven
Collects it to go from the seven eleven
Well hes out all night to collect a fare
Just so long, just so long it dont mess up his hair
Oww ha
I walk the ward for you, babe
A thousand miles with you
I dried your tears of pain
A million times for you
Id sell my soul for you, babe
For money to burn for you
Id give you all and have none, babe
Just a, just a, just a, just a
To have you here by me
Because
In the midnight hour
She cried more, more, more
With a rebel yell
She cried more, more, more
Wowww
In the midnight hour, babe
More, more, more
With a rebel yell
She cried more, more, more
More, more, more
Oo yeah, a little baby
She want more
More, more, more, more, more
Oo yeah, a little angel
She want more
More, more, more, more, more
song performed by by Billy Idol
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rebel Yell
In the midnight hour!!!
Last night my little dancer, came dancing to my door
Last night my little angel, came pumping on the floor
She said, oh come on baby! I got a license for love!
...and if it expires, pray help from above!!!..because,
In the midnight hour, she cried more! more! more!
With a rebel yell, she cried more! more! more!...wow!
In the midnight hour babe...more! more! more!
With a rebel yell! more! more! more!...more, more, more!
She dont like slavery...she wont sit and beg.
But when Im tired and lonely, she sees me to bed.
What set you free, and brought you to me, babe?
What set you free!? I need you here by me...because
In the midnight hour, she cried more! more! more!
With a rebel yell, she cried more! more! more!...wow!
In the midnight hour babe! more! more! more!
With a rebel yell...more! more! more!...more, more, more!
Ill walk the ward, for you babe...
A thousand miles for you...
Id dry your tears, of pain...
A million times, for you...
Id sell my soul, for you babe...
For money to burn, for you...
Id give you all...and have none babe!
Justa...justa...justa...justa, to have you here by me! because
In the midnight hour, she cried more! more! more!
With a rebel yell, she cried more! more! more!...wow!
In the midnight hour babe! more! more! more!
With a rebel yell! she cried, more! more! more!...more, more, more!
Oh yeah, little baby!
She wants more!
More! more! more! more! more!
Oh yeah, little angel!
She wants more!
More! more! more! more! more!
song performed by by Scooter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I wait for the night
I wait for the night
To see the dark sky
Embedded
With twinkling stars
The cool moon
Showering soothing light
I wait for the night
To cuddle in the bed
Under a soft blanket
Close my eyes
Forget the tiredness
Restore my energy
I wait for the night
To have a sound sleep
See sweet dreams
Spent the night
In the land of fairies
I wait for the night
To ask myself
What wrong
I did in the day
To promise myself
Not to repeat it
The next day
19-02-2012
196-107-02-12
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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Clashing With You
Clashing with ones inner self
Is an everyday battle
Helps one not to rattle
Or roam around like cattle.
You are your own person?
You want to be your own person?
So you clash within...over and again
As not to fully sin?
So what then?
Feelings like a turning fan...
The hurt emotions no one can stand.
Pulled by every arm...
None wish you harm...
But yet you are alarmed.
Let it be...people say...
Who are you anyway?
You can take care of self...
Or do you really need someone else?
It is woman who took that look around...
To see what she could see was sound.
Kind, wonderful, and beautiful as well...
For her not to clash would cause much hell...
We as people know that colliding sells
Keeping the jaws from a swell...
Before and after you yell.
Clashing for fun is no good...
Clashing is an art...
It appeases the owner...
It soothe the mind...
And makes one sexy and hungry for play...
Have you clash with you lately?
poem by whisperkwane Lamb
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Fire By Night, Smoke By Day
It's fire by night and smoke by day
As we lay in our beds just thinking away
We wake in the morning to do what they say
It's fire by night and it's smoke by day
The sun starts to rise and the birds start to sing
We worry about what to do, what to wear and what to bring
We make a to-do list filled with everything
Just like the summer, the winter, the fall and the spring
Fire by night, smoke by day
There's nothing left to blow it away
Our day carries on as we're stuck to the clock
A slave to the ways of the tic and the toc
We carry a key but there isn't a lock
Trying to discover what is already lost
Fire by night, smoke by day
There's nothing left to blow it away
We wait for the water to wash it away
It's fire by night, smoke by day
Our thoughts start to wander as night settles in
Engaged in a fight we're not ready to win
As we wait for a new tomorrow to begin
The fire starts burning all over again
Fire by night, smoke by day
There's nothing left to blow it away
We wait for the water to wash it away
It's fire by night, smoke by day
poem by Navillus Tam
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By Starlight.
She'd tell you
which group of stars
were what
in the evening sky
as you stood outside
the church after
choir practice
of a Friday night
and her finger
would lift up
and point it all out
and her words
would drift
on the night air
like cigarette smoke
and you held onto
her every word
as she spoke
not for what she said
of night sky
or constellation of stars
but for the sound
of her voice
how it disturbed
the universe
made the deadly silence
less deadly
how they could bring
you in close to her
could embrace you
as she did
when no one
was looking
or you were both alone
some place standing
or sitting face to face
and that particular night
as she pointed up
and out
her other hand
grabbed yours
in the evening dark
and gave a squeeze
and hold
and then let go
how deep
that love was back then
is hard to figure
but love it was
you know.
poem by Terry Collett
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The Message
Wind of the gentle summer night,
Dwell in the lilac tree,
Sway the blossoms clustered light,
Then blow over to me.
Wind, you are sometimes strong and great,
You frighten the ships at sea,
Now come floating your delicate freight
Out of the lilac tree,
Wind you must waver a gossamer sail
To ferry a scent so light,
Will you carry my love a message as frail
Through the hawk-haunted night?
For my heart is sometimes strange and wild,
Bitter and bold and free,
I scare the beautiful timid child,
As you frighten the ships at sea;
But now when the hawks are piercing the air,
With the golden stars above,
The only thing that my heart can bear
Is a lilac message of love.
Gentle wind, will you carry this
Up to her window white
Give her a gentle tender kiss;
Bid her good-night, good-night.
poem by Duncan Campbell Scott
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The Raven Crows
The Raven Crows
by Charles Robert Hice on Thursday, November 22,2012 at 9: 27pm ·
The Raven Crows
The Raven stretches its wings and flies into the gray winter skies while the raven flies it Crows its rawkish voice makes aweful noise
it blows the wind it howls and sounds like a mechanical noise inside the wind
the noise pretends to be the raven as it crows it flies it crows and flies it dives down into the wind and sounds like a noise falling fast and then it sort of dies and falls away not the sound it echoes and it blows
in the middle of the night no one can see the ravens flight but they hear the voice the noise the sound even the wings they flap they glide silent and they hide
The raven seldom crows when it is in its glide it falls and hides no one can see the feathers as it plummets from the sky it moves in a silent fashion
as the raven glides it hides from the eyes of the men it has a sense of reality and a purpose as it glides it looks neither to the left or to the right finally it is satisfied with its destination in its sight the raven crows one final time and plummets like a stone into the night and suddenly a poem is come to earth as Poe hears his famous bird not the crow the rook or the blackbird as it sings but the Raven as it speaks to only him
Nevermore
The Raven Crows
poem by Charles Hice
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Nocturne
To whom?
I am a bloom.
The heartless cold Moon
and the proud Stars mocking me.
The boisterous sea sings
theme song of destiny,
to the weeping beach.
A ship sails to an unknown country
carry full of slaves as cattle.
in the dawn
I may be thrown
with the Moon?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The Garden Wall
Can you meet me in the evening
behind the garden wall
where the roses grow with scent so sweet
and the misty air does fall?
I will meet you there with open arms
and there we'll hear the song
that plays for lovers everywhere
with the musk of the rose so strong.
I shall wait quite still for your approach
and let my heart be stirred.
I'll anticipate your arrival
as the night creatures all are heard.
As the frogs do croak and the owl does hoot
they do not understand
how I long to see you once again
and take you by the hand.
Ah! to be in love is ecstasy
and to be without is pain.
So meet me behind the garden wall
and allow me to remain
alert for the sound of your footsteps
so softly in the grass.
One small hour is all I ask of thee,
so quickly shall it pass.
But that one small hour will content me
for I'll know that you still care.
And when that hour has passed on by
with the scent of the roses still there
I shall pick one for you, ripe from the vine
and place it in your hair.
And I'll remember how you looked at me
and the hour we did share.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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The Tinker Of Words The Imagist At Work
early dawns
are stressed frogs
they cannot sing
their croaking throats
there is simply
no rain here
they change themselves
into poets
to demean you and
what you do
they swim in the
air (as there is no water
here yet
as there is no rain
and that is
logical enough
to understand)
and the birds
laugh
their tongues are as small
as a punctuation mark
of their
poems
that croak like a frog
as i watch all these
from the hammock
that mocks
i fall into a deep sleep
like Alice
into the big hole
of my
indignant indifference
pure imagination
seeking the support of logic
yet hollow still
because there is really
no one there
nothing human
like a friend.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Even leaves beg me'' says Eagle
eagle, niggard and black
perched on sycomore on Nile bank
tasty fish gambolled in water
at lightening speed eagle caught
tasty fish and scrambled out
eagle flew and perched on a tree
man was under a tree
and glanced at what sat on tree
eagle and man eyes met at ninety angle
eagle flew away saying
''man may conjure him
by evil eyes''
eagle flew and perched on second tree
some birds were on that tree
Eagle and others birds eyes met at ninety angle
eagle flew away saying he
'' choke as birds watch him eating''
Eagle flew and perched on third tree
the breeze shook leaves of tree
eagle saw leaves unfolded shaking
like a begging hand
eagle flew away saying
'' everything beg me , even leaves
beg me too''
Eagle flew and perched on fourth withered tree
no birds, men and leaves around there
only exrtreme silence around there
eagle ate tasty fish
sang in loudest resounding voice
''eel fish and tasty fish are not the same
I ate tasyty fish until heart palpitated in happiness''
poem by David Aoloch Bion
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The Loneliness Of A Fisherman Of Ideas....
you fish at night
the moon is fading
it is when the night
is so dark
that you see the realities
of fish
squids having neon lights
around its body
a school of fish
appears like a diamond
city
you fish alone
in the deepest part of the ocean
where all the stars
have all gone into hiding
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Frogs
A POOL was once congeal'd with frost;
The frogs, in its deep waters lost,
No longer dared to croak or spring;
But promised, being half asleep,
If suffer'd to the air to creep,
As very nightingales to sing.
A thaw dissolved the ice so strong,--
They proudly steer'd themselves along,
When landed, squatted on the shore,
And croak'd as loudly as before.
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Heavenly night
In the milky night
the diamond moon glistens on
the silver lakes reflects
the power of twinkling stars! !
The smell of jasmine which
maketh the insects sit upon
the breezy wind peeps into my ear
to wakeup at the milky night alone
is wonderful and charm! !
The golden leaves falls from the tree
looks as going in the chilly air
as angels flies in the moon lit night! !
The melodies of trees chirping sounds of air
call me remembering the sound of salangai
worn by woman! !
The night birds sing the songs I am delighted
enjoyed standing in the chilly air beneath the moon lit night! !
Let the heavenly night wake me up
And I am delighted to stand under the moon lit night! ! !
(Salangai woman wear in their legs which gives beautiful sound
10/3/2009 1000 pm)
poem by Swagathnath Rajeswari
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