Related quotes: Sour fiend, go home and...

Ghoul Care

Sour fiend, go home and tell the Pit
For once you met your master, -
A man who carried in his soul
Three charms against disaster,
The Devil and disaster.
Away, away, and tell the tale
And start your whelps a-whining,
Say 'In the greenwood of his soul
A lizard's eye was shining,
A little eye kept shining.'
Away, away, and salve your sores,
And set your hags a-groaning,
Say 'In the greenwood of his soul
A drowsy bee was droning,
A dreamy bee was droning.'
Prodigious Bat! Go start the walls
Of Hell with horror ringing.
Say 'In the greenwood of his soul
There was a goldfinch singing,
A pretty goldfinch singing.'
And then come back, come, if you please,
A fiercer ghoul and ghaster,
With all the glooms and smuts of Hell
Behind you, I'm you master!
You know I'm still your master.

poem by Ralph Hodgson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Soul Singing

Written by: r. robinson & c. robinson
Ive been down
Cascading and blue w/out a sound
Now Ive traded my black feathers for a crown
So feed me milk & honey
Lay me down
Lay me down
Look around
Show me holy places not yet found
Lets disappear and well hide underground
Well get high and well feel safe & sound
It comes around arayayayound
Chorus:
You got my soul singing my soul singing
You got my soul singing my soul singing
You got my soul singing my soul singing
You got my soul singing my soul singing
Home bound
Tired of tired of running town to town
Tired of my heart turned upside down
Now my lifes a smile not a frown
The sound
The sound
Chorus

song performed by by Black Crowes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Art

The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.

—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident
the art of losing’s not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

poem by Elizabeth Bishop (1976)
Submitted by anonym
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Christmas Eve

Oh, hush thee, little Dear-my-Soul,
The evening shades are falling,--
Hush thee, my dear, dost thou not hear
The voice of the Master calling?

Deep lies the snow upon the earth,
But all the sky is ringing
With joyous song, and all night long
The stars shall dance, with singing.

Oh, hush thee, little Dear-my-Soul,
And close thine eyes in dreaming,
And angels fair shall lead thee where
The singing stars are beaming.

A shepherd calls his little lambs,
And he longeth to caress them;
He bids them rest upon his breast,
That his tender love may bless them.

So, hush thee, little Dear-my-Soul,
Whilst evening shades are falling,
And above the song of the heavenly throng
Thou shalt hear the Master calling.

poem by Eugene Field
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Patch-Up

His dog was home Alone
He didn't even have a Bone
He layed there, with big sad Eye's
Waiting for his master and his Lie's

His master Staggered In
Really stinking of Gin
Began to tell his Dog
He's late because of the Fog

Now the Dog began to Grin
He knew lying was a Sin
He looked at his Master
And saw a Big Disaster

The night was clear as a Bell
No fog for miles, as he could Tell
So his master did Lie
I guess this would be Good-Bye

The dog packed his Bags
And got all his Tags
Snook out the back Door
Didn't want to see his master Anymore

That Dog did the best that he Can
And the Master was a real bad Man
So that dog took off, for the better Life
And with that bad Man he would have no more Strife

Two years later the Dog Reappeared
He was expecting the worst, he Feared
But that bad man had cleaned up his Act
And had a wife now, as a matter of Fact

Now that Dog had a big Smile
And waiting in the back all the While
Was the dogs new 'wife' and 'Pup'
Yes, there all together now, a Great Patch-Up

P.S. And they all had a Merry Christmas, and lived happily ever after.....

poem by David Darbyshire
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12 Midnight

Now the master sleeps
Leaving you some of his poems
Now it is midnight
Now the master has to sleep
Take care yourselves
Take care of his poems
They are now yours,
All his disciples
The master sleeps.

Now, see, how the master breathes
Listen to the rhythm of his sighs
Some poems are coming out from
His nostrils some poems are coming out
From his mouth and ears

The master poet is asleep
Even in dreams he weaves some images
Dreamy, surreal, ephemeral, his sleep
Has rhyme & rhythm, he is a soul breathing

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It's My Heart's Song Ringing

It's my heart's song ringing
Singing special for my soul
Of the weedy hues waving
'twixt and 'twixt and weaving
AS red and pink and blue parole
White and yellow on the whole

It's my heart's song ringing
Singing special for my soul
Of the sunshine when in rising
As it there and there passing
Gold and silver set to enroll
When I blink for words to extol

It's my heart's song ringing
Singing special for my soul
Of greens and pines and all pining
As they range in rows all upping
Bush and breeze in hush and cajole
Heavenly chimes when play their role

It's my heart's song ringing
Singing special for my soul
Of the descent of water falling
Down in silence a stream rippling
Azured when she with morning tole
Astir green mountainous all an aureole

It's my heart's song ringing
Singing special for my soul
Of land and amber as sun's setting
Sky and grey as light is dimming
Star and silver when seen in pole
Sheeny moon in brightened control

It's my heart's song ringing
Singing special for my soul
Of days this way fast passing
By the window side me sitting
Stable there a heaven to insoul
For this oldie a salvational goal

poem by Indira Renganathan
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Lord of the Flies

Oh Master my Master
Oh where have you been
I wallowed in filth and
I drowned in sin
Oh Master my Master
It's my rotten luck
To swim in the decay
And swallow the muck
Oh Master my Master
I stand in the fires
Surrounded by murderers
Thieves, cheaters, and liars
Oh Master my Master
the earth has turned red
Fluid with blood
Of the recently dead
Oh Master my Master
What's wrong with the world
The blackness unfolds
Like a flag that's unfurled
Oh Master my Master
You ignore my cries
And now I'm quite sure
You're the Lord of the Flies

poem by Anonymous Ghurl
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Lord of this World

You're searching for your mind don't know where to start
can't find the key to fit the lock on your heart
you think you know but you are never quite sure
your soul is ill but you will not find a cure.

Your world was made for you by someone above
but you chose evil ways instead of love.
You made me master of the world where you exist
the soul I took from you was not even missed.

Lord of this world
Evil possessor
Lord of this world
He's your confessor now!

song performed by by Black Sabbath from Master of Reality
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Go To Hell

Now if your mind lies in the Devil's workshop
And evil duens your thrill
And trouble and mischief is all you live for
You know darn well
That you'll go to hell
So you're living high and mighty
Rich off the fat of the land
Just don't dispose of your natural soul
'cos you know darn well
That you'll go to hell
I say hell
Where your natural soul burns
Hell
Where you pay for your sins
Hell
Keep your children from wrongdoing
'cos you know darn well
That they'll go to hell.
I say hell
Man, woman were created
Hell
To live for eternity
Hell
With an apple they ate from the tree of hate
So you know darn well
That they went to hell
Now Satan was an angel in heaven
But he stirred up trouble and woe
So the LORD commanded that the Devil be branded
So you know darn well
He went to hell
Yeah, he went to hell
Yeah, he went to hell
He went to hell.

song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ghost Revisited

No soul is my property other than the one,
No tremors awake the dead when there is life;
My ministry is of the living, and the ghosts are absent,
They work in ways to be known and ways to master.

No godly being is a man, and no holy man contrives ruination
On the ghost or the ghoul that mattered to its hunter,
The very same can be said of the frail master and mistress
Who spend freely over themselves like bosses and ladies.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Eurydice: Listening: A Picture By Burne Jones

As sentient as a wedding-bell,
The vibrant air throbs calling her
Whose eager body, earwise curved,
Leans listening at the heart of hell.
She is one nerve of hearing, strained
To love and suffer, hope and fear-
Thus, hearkening for her Love, she waits,
Whom no man's daring heart has gained.

Oh, to be sound to such an ear!
Song, carol, vesper, comfort near,
Sweet words, at sweetest, whispered low,
Or dearer silence, happiest so.
By little languages of love
Her finer audience to prove;
A tenderness untried, to fit
To soul and sense so exquisite;
The blessed Orpheus to be
At last, to such Eurydice!

III

I listened in hell! I listened in hell!
Down in the dark I heard your soul
Singing mine out to the holy sun.
Deep in the dark I heard your feet
Ringing the way of Love in hell.
Into the flame you strode and stood.
Out of the flame you bore me well,
As I listened in hell.

I listen in hell! I listen in hell!
Who trod the fire? Where was the scorch?
Clutched, clasped, and saved, what a tale was to tell
-Heaven come down to hell!
Oh, like a spirit you strove for my sake!
Oh, like a man you looked back for your own!
Back, though you loved me heavenly well,
Back, though you lost me. The gods did decree,
And I listen in hell.

poem by Elizabeth Stuart Phelps Ward
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Death of Robin Hood

"Give me my bow," said Robin Hood,
"An arrow give to me;
And where 't is shot mark thou that spot,
For there my grave shall be."

Then Little John did make no sign,
And not a word he spake;
But he smiled, altho' with mickle woe
His heart was like to break.

He raised his master in his arms,
And set him on his knee;
And Robin's eyes beheld the skies,
The shaws, the greenwood tree.

The brook was babbling as of old,
The birds sang full and clear,
And the wild-flowers gay like a carpet lay
In the path of the timid deer.

"O Little John," said Robin Hood,
"Meseemeth now to be
Standing with you so stanch and true
Under the greenwood tree.

"And all around I hear the sound
Of Sherwood long ago,
And my merry men come back again,--
You know, sweet friend, you know!

"Now mark this arrow; where it falls,
When I am dead dig deep,
And bury me there in the greenwood where
I would forever sleep."

He twanged his bow. Upon its course
The clothyard arrow sped,
And when it fell in yonder dell,
Brave Robin Hood was dead.

The sheriff sleeps in a marble vault,
The king in a shroud of gold;
And upon the air with a chanted pray'r
Mingles the mock of mould.

But the deer draw to the shady pool,
The birds sing blithe and free,
And the wild-flow'rs bloom o'er a hidden tomb
Under the greenwood tree.

poem by Eugene Field
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Chris Benoit

From grace to grass
And so he fell
From hero's palace
to never ending hell
Rest your soul now
Because you're there to tell
Heaven is blessed
Because now they have the best
Hell is now damned
because they can feel your wrath
Rest your soul now beautiful one
because the bell has rang
Rest your soul now beautiful one
because it's time to fight
Rest your soul now beautiful one
because it's time for angel's smile
Rest your soul now beautiful one
because it's time for hell to cry
It's a testimony of what you can do
at the ringing of the bell
It's the testimony of what you can do
because you are the best.

poem by Olufunmbi Aransiola
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Con The Master

The meadows smelt of rotting hay for the farmers a disaster
But 'we will live to see the Spring' I'm quoting Con the Master
He scratched his gray head whilst looking towards the hill saying what's the point in complaining
The clouds o'er Clara looking full again it looks like raining.

As Con had predicted we see the Spring and when Winter days were over
the milk cows thin going out on grass gained weight on the lush clover
And the cuckoo's voice was heard again and home again the swallow
And birds were singing all day long on the hedgerows of Duhallow.

Along the slopes of Clara hill the gray fog cloaked the heather
But we'll live to see the Spring he said despite the rotting weather
And Con the Master one who knew he had lived through many a Season
And for all of the talk of the hard days ahead he could not see a reason.

The weather settled in mid Fall and stayed fine till December
And 'we will live to see the Spring' those words I still remember
The meadows smelt of rotting hay and the farmers were forecasting disaster
But all of their talk of doom and gloom did not worry Con the Master.

poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poor Boy

Me i'm just a poor boy, from across the far southland,
And i've traveled many days to reach this place to mke my stand,
I fell in with a merry band, and drank away the hours.
Chorus
Rollin' on, i've been rollin' on,
And my head is high, from the battle won,
Laid down my life for the greenwood
The city boys, and the country boys, they come from miles around,
To defy their king and country, save the poor folks from the hand,
Of the thieving dukes and abbotts, and the gentry of the land.
Chorus
Rollin' on, i've been rollin' on,
And my head is high, from the battle won,
Laid down my life for the greenwood
Sweet maid marion, don't you do me no wrong,
Stay on the right side, the greenwood is your home,,
The dancing girls and the open fires, the wine that flows like water.
Chorus
Rollin' on, i've been rollin' on,
And my head is high, from the battle won,
Laid down my life for the greenwood

song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poor Boy (The Greenwood)

Me Im just a poor boy, from across the far southland,
And Ive traveled many days to reach this place to mke my stand,
I fell in with a merry band, and drank away the hours.
Chorus
Rollin on, Ive been rollin on,
And my head is high, from the battle won,
Laid down my life for the greenwood
The city boys, and the country boys, they come from miles around,
To defy their king and country, save the poor folks from the hand,
Of the thieving dukes and abbotts, and the gentry of the land.
Chorus
Rollin on, Ive been rollin on,
And my head is high, from the battle won,
Laid down my life for the greenwood
Sweet maid marion, dont you do me no wrong,
Stay on the right side, the greenwood is your home,,
The dancing girls and the open fires, the wine that flows like water.
Chorus
Rollin on, Ive been rollin on,
And my head is high, from the battle won,
Laid down my life for the greenwood

song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Devil Within

Devil inside the mask thats displayed
On your knees you honor your master as you decieve
Leaving the doors you then show your true self
Evil walks as the devil that dwells in you
Your gangs and criminals with violence and murder will rebound
For we many in a hell where evil dwells in many hearts
Repent now to save yourself from losing your soul
If you choose to stay in hell to continue speading your evil from one life to the next torment will never end in your mind
Your true happiness with love will never be found
You will only be lost in your evil devil ways over and over For the devil is not in the ground as words say to be feared at the end
The devil is here now and must change his evil ways for a better world

poem by Candy Transcends
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On Hearing And Seeing A Goldfinch

The last day of October a balmy day of Spring
And on highest branch of a blackwood tree a sunlit goldfinch sing
His twittering notes unmistakeable so pleasant for to hear
One of the smaller songsters of the Springtime of the year.

With red around beak and of grey, brown and fawn and gold
A sunlit goldfinch in song is quite lovely to behold
You do not need to see him you know him by his song
One whose voice is familiar and you never can get wrong.

In a cup shaped nest of rootlets lined with down, lichen and bits of hay
Four to seven bluish white eggs the female bird she lay
Her mate he does the singing whilst she hatches her eggs to life
One cannot say about her that she is not a good wife.

The last day of October 'tis so breezy and bright
And a goldfinch is singing in the warm sunlight
Butterflies flit around the flower beds and the dark brown honey bees
Are buzzing whilst gathering nectar from the blossoming bushes and trees.

poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In My Lonely Feeling

In my lonely feeling
From my darkest dreams,
I go on through days
As I wonder,
Always changing
Forever dreaming
Am I the master of my soul?
Now my reasons changing.
Fear has faded away.
No more days of my wonder,
Cant stop feeling,
No disbelieving,
Yes, Im the master of my soul.

song performed by by Journey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Move home

got body
got houses
got food
got no soul
got nothing

move
move
move home

got accounts
master cards
got sugar -
got no soul
got nothing