Tyranny.
'Spring-germs, spring-germs,
I charge you by your life, go back to death.
This glebe is sick, this wind is foul of breath.
Stay: feed the worms.
'Oh! every clod
Is faint, and falters from the war of growth
And crumbles in a dreary dust of sloth,
Unploughed, untrod.
'What need, what need,
To hide with flowers the curse upon the hills,
Or sanctify the banks of sluggish rills
Where vapors breed?
'And -- if needs must --
Advance, O Summer-heats! upon the land,
And bake the bloody mould to shards and sand
And dust.
'Before your birth,
Burn up, O Roses! with your dainty flame.
Good Violets, sweet Violets, hide shame
Below the earth.
'Ye silent Mills,
Reject the bitter kindness of the moss.
O Farms! protest if any tree emboss
The barren hills.
'Young Trade is dead,
And swart Work sullen sits in the hillside fern
And folds his arms that find no bread to earn,
And bows his head.
'Spring-germs, spring-germs,
Albeit the towns have left you place to play,
I charge you, sport not. Winter owns to-day,
Stay: feed the worms.'
poem by Sidney Lanier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
New Spring
Spring!
Spring! How beautiful is the
Spring! How wonderful is the
Spring! How majestic is the
Spring! How fantastic is the
Spring! How tantalizing is the
Spring! How glorious is the
Spring! How melodious is the
Spring! How joyful is the
Spring! How breathtaking is the
Spring! How uplifting the
Spring! How happy is the
Spring! How magnificent is the
Spring! How colorful is the
Spring! How tasteful is the
Spring! How memorable was the
Spring! How flavorful is the
Spring! How aromic is the
Spring! How sweet is
Spring! How beautiful is the
Spring!
poem by Mario Saboundjian
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Concept Of The Soul
The candle is shut and the flame is out.
The candle is left and the life has set.
Before shut, the candle must have been lit.
The unlit candle can never be shut.
The being is dead and the life is out.
The body remains lifeless and sparkles.
Does the death mean the exit of the soul?
The soul to exit, when did it enter?
Is it that the soul has entered at birth?
No, the embryo has life before the birth.
Is it that the soul has entered at zygote?
No, the sperm and the ovum have their life.
Hens lay eggs, which turn chicks; they all have life.
No stage is void for the souls to enter.
The souls are the extension of the chicks
And the chicks, the extension of the hens
The child is the offshoot of its parents,
Who in turn are of their parents and so on.
The body and the life have struck to form
A unit when the first life was born.
Death is no more than the death of a shoot.
The death of the shoot is not the death of the tree
Nor is the death of the tree the death of the seeds
Nowhere else is broken the chain of the life.
When one begets the other, the other
Is of matter and life put together.
There are no such things as soul and body
To fuse at birth and depart at death.
Germs multiply by fissions and budding
Plants diversify by seeds and cuttings.
Birds by eggs, mammals by kids, they all spread.
Germs to mankind, the life is an extension.
The soul is a single string that has run
Through all living bodies, alive or dead:
Through germs, reeds and plants, through flies, worms and prawns
Through fish, snakes and birds and through. Cows and man.
Candles and flame are not bodies and soul.
The candle is lit before it is shut.
The body is not lit with the soul
For it to be out at the time of death.
Then what is the aftermath of the death?
Isn’t that the life is soul that went out?
Yes, the life goes, the soul goes, not as a whole.
The extended part of the life/soul dies.
Should the life be the soul, then there must be
Only one soul to have come with the first life.
The whole living kingdom has evolved
From the origin of life by evolution.
The plants imbibe the inorganic salts
And grow and the animals eat the plants.
When plants and animals exhaust themselves
The worms and germs eat them and release salts.
That the soul enters the body is a myth.
That the soul exits the body is a myth.
That the liberated soul reenters
Or is redeemed of rebirth is a myth.
In every birth the soul will protrude
And on each death the protrusion is off..
It is not that there are as many souls
As there are living things born and dead.
The whole universal life is one soul
That travels through the different branches
Of the matter in growth and adoption,
And is off when the branches meet their death.
09.01.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I have a Rendezvous with Death
I have a rendezvous with Death
At some disputed barricade,
When Spring comes back with rustling shade
And apple-blossoms fill the air—
I have a rendezvous with Death
When Spring brings back blue days and fair.
It may be he shall take my hand
And lead me into his dark land
And close my eyes and quench my breath—
It may be I shall pass him still.
I have a rendezvous with Death
On some scarred slope of battered hill,
When Spring comes round again this year
And the first meadow-flowers appear.
God knows 'twere better to be deep
Pillowed in silk and scented down,
Where love throbs out in blissful sleep,
Pulse nigh to pulse, and breath to breath,
Where hushed awakenings are dear . . .
But I've a rendezvous with Death
At midnight in some flaming town,
When Spring trips north again this year,
And I to my pledged word am true,
I shall not fail that rendezvous.
poem by Alan Seeger
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rendezvous
I have a rendezvous with Death
At some disputed barricade,
I have a rendezvous with Death
At some disputed barricade,
When Spring comes back with rustling shade
And apple-blossoms fill the air--
I have a rendezvous with Death
When Spring brings back blue days and fair.
It may be he shall take my hand
And lead me into his dark land
And close my eyes and quench my breath--
It may be I shall pass him still.
I have a rendezvous with Death
On some scarred slope of battered hill,
When Spring comes round again this year
And the first meadow-flowers appear.
God knows 'twere better to be deep
Pillowed in silk and scented down,
Where love throbs out in blissful sleep,
Pulse nigh to pulse, and breath to breath,
Where hushed awakenings are dear . . .
But I've a rendezvous with Death
At midnight in some flaming town,
When Spring trips north again this year,
And I to my pledged word am true,
I shall not fail that rendezvous.
poem by Alan Seeger
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Germ Chaser
I knew a careful lady once
Who read a book by Dr. Bunce,
A wise authority on wogs
That roam about in dust and fogs;
Indeed, he pointed out, all air,
However pure, held germs somewhere;
They clung to door-knobs, crawled on floors,
Inhabited small change in scores.
In fact, there scarcely was a thing
To which some foul germ did not cling,
Ready to leap and work its will
To some poor luckless human's ill.
The lady closed the book and sighed,
And all content within her died.
This pleasant earth for her became
The haunt of wogs, and life a game
Of hide and seek. She joined the band
Of grim germ-chasers in the land.
She scoured and scrubbed, examined food -
Which, thus far, was all to the good -
But when she strove to disinfect
Her home, 'twas worse than mild neglect;
No hospital smelled half so bad,
And then, I fear, she went quite mad.
Her eye took on a maniac glare;
She saw germs lurking everywhere.
She hung up mottoes such as this:
'Ten thousand germs in every kiss.'
She would not handle coins or take
Another's hand for friendship's sake;
Scarce dared to eat or draw a breath
For fear she might imbibe her death.
She sprayed her husband, heels to head,
With crude carbolic till he fled;
But, since she had means of her own,
She much preferred to live alone.
When going into town one day,
Wrapped up and muzzled in a way
Quite microbe-proof, from foot to crown,
A passing motor knocked her down.
And where she's sleeping soundly now
The germs have got her, anyhow…
The point of this sad tale is here:
Better be dead than live in fear;
Better live like a Stone Age man
Before germ-consciousness began;
Better take chances, seems to me,
Than try to dodge what you can't see.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Spring Can't Stay Away Forever
Though the long, dark winter days
Have left their mark,
Spring can't stay away forever.
The dreary fields and barren trees,
Made life seem stark,
But spring can't stay away forever.
Though the colors fled the earth,
Just to stay above, and tease us-
But a breath of what we lost;
Scant beauty to appease us.
Still, soon departs the frost
Spring can't stay away forever.
poem by Patti Masterman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Spring's Bower
Spring’s Bower
Ah! Woe is me the veil I see
The veil of death hangs lower.
And e’re my spirit passes from me
I will see again Spring’s Bower.
Awaiting death must stay his hand
For my life has one more hour.
And tho’ I close my eyes this day
I will again see Spring’s Bower.
“Tis tho’ my life were but a thread
Of what life had to shower.
There is still just time before I’m dead,
Time enough to see Spring’s Bower
Take me I pray to the window seat,
Clutch to thy breast the flower
Which I plucked when last we did meet,
'Neath our beautiful Spring Bower.
poem by Robert Harrison
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Cessation of animation
Wax exhausted, or being blown out
By wind or the mouth, the candle will die.
Flesh wearing out, or being eaten
By accidents or germs, man will die.
The external stress is the cause of death,
Be it to the candle or to the human.
Death of flame is dispersion of heat.
Death of life is cessation of animation
18.10.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Upekkha
Looking with dispassion,
with equanimity,
doesn't it shine brighter than a thousand suns?
The broken wing,
the severed finger,
the uncompleted life
'the smyler with the knife'
the smell of fear
spirochaetes, viruses and germs
and the ever-chewing sepulchral worms?
And don't we see a thousand times and more
that what we build and try to hold in place
disintegrates, vanishes without trace?
And what we hoard up
and try to store
provides a breeding ground for rats?
And this which is the Past
is also Evermore?
And what we cannot preserve here
when we have felt the betrayal of the breath
we save for heaven,
taking our joys and pains
across the no-man's land of death
and there, in finer, subtler, intellectual realms
plant our standards.
and still the Eternal, empty wind
blows them down.
poem by Brian Taylor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Kisses blown are kisses wasted. Kisses aren't kisses unless they are tasted. Kisses spread germs and germs are hated. So kiss me baby I'm vaccinated.
The Coming Of Spring
Spring is come back, and the little voices are calling,
The birds are calling, the little green buds on the trees,
A song in the street, and an old and sleepy tune;
All the sounds of the spring are falling, falling,
Gentle as rain, on my heart, and I hear all these
As a sick man hears men talk from the heart of a swoon.
The clamours of spring are the same old delicate noises,
The earth renews its magical youth at a breath,
And the whole world whispers a well-known, secret thing;
And I hear, but the meaning has faded out of the voices;
Something has died in my heart: is it death or sleep?
I know not, but I have forgotten the meaning of spring.
poem by Arthur Symons
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I Hate Germs
i hate germs
they're nasty things
they're spread by kissing
and mozzie stings.
so i don't kiss
nor go outside
i sit at home
with the door shut tight.
i cook my food
for hours and hours
i avoid preservatives
and wheat and flour.
it really is quite boring
and i'm not happy
but those nasty germs
they don't get me.
poem by David Keig
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Spring Wind
The petals are flying away in the spring wind
So are my thoughts and words
I cannot hold them back
Stunned as I am in an ethereal idleness!
I see before my eyes
The spring wind flying away
With my desires of life
Little I can do
To hold them back
Dazed as I am in a resigned stupor!
I see the drift but can’t prevent it
I do not want to
The flying away of the petals and the fragrance
With the spring wind with a mind of its own!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Germs
Sometimes I really want to be alone
But thats one state Im never in
Because I know that Ive got millions upon millions
Of tiny, one-celled organisms living on my skin
(germs) I rub and scrub until my flesh is raw and bleeding
(germs) but they just come right back
(germs) I cant even see em, but I know theyre up to something
Hey, dont touch that - you dont know where its been
Theyre all over me
Theyre inside of me
Cant get em offa me
Im covered with ... microscopic bacteria
What do they want from me
Whatll they do to me
Theres no escape for me
Im crawling with ... microscopic bacteria
Now if I ever dare to go to sleep
Thats when they start their sneak attack
In the morning I wake up in utter horror
To find my teeth are covered with bacterial plaque
(germs) cant get those parasitic creatures off my face
(germs) and theres more comin every day
(germs) I never said that they could camp out on my body
I wish theyd pack their tiny little bags and move away
Theyre all over me
Theyre inside of me
Cant get em offa me
Im covered with ... microscopic bacteria
What do they want from me
Whatll they do to me
Theres no escape for me
Im crawling with ... microscopic bacteria
Theyre creepin around my shorts
Theyre under the bathroom sink
Theyre ridin inside my car
Theyre swimmin in my drink
Theyre hidin between my toes
Theyre lurkin in every kiss
I got em way up my nose
In every orafice
Im gonna show them whos boss
Im gonna get even yet
Just gimme some lysol spray
Just hand me a moist towelette
Dont tell me Im paranoid
I know that theyre after me
Look under the microscope
See? ?
Theyre all over me
Theyre inside of me
Cant get em offa me
Im covered with ... microscopic bacteria
What do they want from me
Whatll they do to me
Theres no escape for me
Im crawling with ... microscopic bacteria
Theyre all over me
I can feel em all over me
Over every part of me
Microscopic bacteria
I know theyre watching me
Theyre always watching me
Theyre coming after me
Microscopic bacteria
Wont somebody help me
Please somebody help me
Youve got to believe me
Theyre out to get me
They wanna control me
They wanna destroy me
Theyre tryin to kill me
It kind of upsets me
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Early Day in May
May soothed
– sensual breeze caressing.
Snug, she cooed in floral chroma;
Gave artistic license – dressing up
Pubescent fields, teenage woods,
Jaded lanes; embellishing
Craggy watersides.
Warmth was kind – sun tempered,
Lifting life; erecting bluebell swathes
For good measure: late-spring treasure.
At hill’s base
A mirrored lake, brooding,
Bathed in halcyon haze –
Yet hectic life scurried,
Spurred on by procreational drive,
To see it all survived another year.
Back home, garden tulips flared,
Thrust aloft on rigid stems, and
Under day-time brilliance,
Open goblets, clustered,
Sought out heavenly guidance –
Lauding hallowed Tulipa gods.
May is Nature’s intermission –
Bridging April’s go-ahead
With hothead June.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
s pring spring spring spring spring spring
spring spring spring spring spring spring
spring spring spring spring spring spring
spring spring spring spring spring spring
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Spring Did Come.
Spring did come,
On butterfly's wings.
On a flitting bird,
And the song it sings.
Spring did come,
When the flowers bloomed,
When it filled the air
With a sweet purfume.
Spring did come,
On the morning's breeze.
Spring did come,
On budding leaves.
Spring did come,
On blades of dew.
Spring did come,
In skies of blue.
Spring did come,
With a joyous ring.
Spring did come...
Welcome, Spring!
poem by Macy Dvirnak
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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O Heart of Spring
O HEART of Spring!
Spirit of light and love and joyous day,
So soon to faint beneath the fiery Summer:
Still smiles the Earth, eager for thee alway:
Welcome art thou, soever short thy stay,
Thou bold, thou blithe newcomer!
Whither, O whither this thy journeying,
O heart of Spring?
O heart of Spring!
After the stormy days of Winter’s reign,
When the keen winds their last lament are sighing,
The Sun shall raise thee up to life again:
In thy dim death thou shalt not suffer pain:
Surely thou dost not fear this quiet dying?
Whither, O whither this thy journeying,
O heart of Spring?
O heart of Spring!
Youth’s emblem, ancient and unchanging light,
Uncomprehended, unconsumed, still burning:
Oh that we could, as thou, rise from the night
To find a world of blossoms lilac-white,
And long-winged swallows unafraid returning…
Whither, O whither this thy journeying,
O heart of Spring?
poem by John Shaw Neilson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Song Of Spring
The Spring comes slowly up this way,
Slowly, slowly,
Under a snood of hodden grey.
The black and white for her array,
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.
Where is her green that was so gay?
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.
Unto a world too sick for May,
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.
Where are the lads that used to play?
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.
She has no heart for holiday,
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.
The trees are out in Heaven they say.
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up our way.
poem by Katharine Tynan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Spring Is
Spring is birds singing their heads off
Spring is a beautiful season full of color
Spring is the constant war between the sun and rain
Spring is the light at the end of the long winter tunnel
Spring is the season that brings back life
poem by Kristina Lybbert
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love In Motion
My heart,
only ye can snatch
pleasure ye manufacture
when my heart expand
thy squeez
blessed me dreams
ever my eyes blind
the hope always
just when a lip touchs
but any of thy kisses
open way, when loss
and thy compass shadow
show my direction
to heart of yours
Thy unique smile
add bonus to my earth
when germs decided
to blow my days
and when touch arrived
it made me scream
even thy have bliss
ever sadness took me
Blossom ever
i do conjure ye.
Thy fire lips
gave tastes
when rotten overcome
like thy heart
that i ruled
like an emperor
but don't ever spring
and spring again
thus die in heaven
poem by alfusainey Sonko
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