Willaloo
By E. A. P.
In the sad and sodden street,
To and fro,
Flit the fever-stricken feet
Of the freshers as they meet,
Come and go,
Ever buying, buying, buying
Where the shopmen stand supplying,
Vying, vying
All they know,
While the Autumn lies a-dying
Sad and low
As the price of summer suitings when the winter breezes blow,
Of the summer, summer suitings that are standing in a row
On the way to Jericho.
See the freshers as they row
To and fro,
Up and down the Lower River for an afternoon or so—
(For the deft manipulation
Of the never-resting oar,
Though it lead to approbation,
Will induce excoriation)—
They are infinitely sore,
Keeping time, time, time
In a sort of Runic rhyme
Up and down the way to Iffley in an afternoon or so;
(Which is slow).
Do they blow?
'Tis the wind and nothing more,
'Tis the wind that in Vacation has a tendency to go:
But the coach's objurgation and his tendency to 'score'
Will be sated—nevermore.
See the freshers in the street,
The elite!
Their apparel how unquestionably neat!
How delighted at a distance,
Inexpensively attired,
I have wondered with persistence
At their butterfly existence!
How admired!
And the payment—O, the payment!
It is tardy for the raiment:
Yet the haberdasher gloats as he sells,
And he tells,
'This is best
To be dress'd
Rather better than the rest,
To be noticeably drest,
To be swells,
To be swells, swells, swells, swells,
Swells, swells, swells,
To be simply and indisputably swells.'
See the freshers one or two,
Just a few,
Now on view,
Who are sensibly and innocently new;
How they cluster, cluster, cluster
Round the rugged walls of Worcester!
See them stand,
Book in hand,
In the garden ground of John's!
How they dote upon their Dons!
See in every man a Blue!
It is true
They are lamentably few;
But I spied
Yesternight upon the staircase just a pair of boots outside
Upon the floor,
Just a little pair of boots upon the stairs where I reside,
Lying there and nothing more;
And I swore
While these dainty twins continued sentry by the chamber door
That the hope their presence planted should be with me evermore,
Should desert me—nevermore.
poem by Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch
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Related quotes
Different Winds
Autumn gusts
coldish
death red and orange
prophesy of a massacre of green and hopefullness
(the poem dips)
winter wind
bitinig
cold
every thing is waiting
like rivers of frozen paper slicing through the air
(the poem falls dead)
spring breeze
round
warmish
enveloping my heart
yellowish green breezes blow through class room windows
begging me to fly
(the poem swells and wishes to grow)
summer breezes
i dont remember.
(the swelling poem hesitates)
but soon i will alight upon a breeze of summer
and swim through the air and sea
so i will never forget the taste
of summer air
(the poem waits contentedly for a forgotten wind to sweep it away)
A Lunatic Lady
Along the canal bank
And harvested field,
She roams, with a mind
That had slid from its rail.
Her muddy skirt
And brownish hairs
Flutter in the salty wind,
Like the flags of insanity.
Lonely nights, fire burns
On the distant banks;
Wind smell does tell
She barbecues canal fish.
"During the windy seasons,
Lunacy is let loose" -
Her night shrieks and shouts
Are thus neglected in village logic.
Her stomach swells like our morality
That drowns and swells, day by day,
With myriads of questions
To be answered by Time.
Fabiyas M V
poem by Fabiyas M V
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The Bells
I
Hear the sledges with the bells-
Silver bells!
What a world of merriment their melody foretells!
How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle,
In the icy air of night!
While the stars that oversprinkle
All the heavens, seem to twinkle
With a crystalline delight;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells
From the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells-
From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.
II
Hear the mellow wedding bells,
Golden bells!
What a world of happiness their harmony foretells!
Through the balmy air of night
How they ring out their delight!
From the molten-golden notes,
And an in tune,
What a liquid ditty floats
To the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloats
On the moon!
Oh, from out the sounding cells,
What a gush of euphony voluminously wells!
How it swells!
How it dwells
On the Future! how it tells
Of the rapture that impels
To the swinging and the ringing
Of the bells, bells, bells,
Of the bells, bells, bells,bells,
Bells, bells, bells-
To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells!
III
Hear the loud alarum bells-
Brazen bells!
What a tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells!
In the startled ear of night
How they scream out their affright!
Too much horrified to speak,
They can only shriek, shriek,
Out of tune,
In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire,
In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire,
Leaping higher, higher, higher,
With a desperate desire,
And a resolute endeavor,
Now- now to sit or never,
By the side of the pale-faced moon.
Oh, the bells, bells, bells!
What a tale their terror tells
Of Despair!
How they clang, and clash, and roar!
What a horror they outpour
On the bosom of the palpitating air!
Yet the ear it fully knows,
By the twanging,
And the clanging,
How the danger ebbs and flows:
Yet the ear distinctly tells,
In the jangling,
And the wrangling,
How the danger sinks and swells,
By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells-
Of the bells-
Of the bells, bells, bells,bells,
Bells, bells, bells-
In the clamor and the clangor of the bells!
IV
Hear the tolling of the bells-
Iron Bells!
What a world of solemn thought their monody compels!
In the silence of the night,
How we shiver with affright
At the melancholy menace of their tone!
For every sound that floats
From the rust within their throats
Is a groan.
And the people- ah, the people-
They that dwell up in the steeple,
All Alone
And who, tolling, tolling, tolling,
In that muffled monotone,
Feel a glory in so rolling
On the human heart a stone-
They are neither man nor woman-
They are neither brute nor human-
They are Ghouls:
And their king it is who tolls;
And he rolls, rolls, rolls,
Rolls
A paean from the bells!
And his merry bosom swells
With the paean of the bells!
And he dances, and he yells;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the paean of the bells-
Of the bells:
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the throbbing of the bells-
Of the bells, bells, bells-
To the sobbing of the bells;
Keeping time, time, time,
As he knells, knells, knells,
In a happy Runic rhyme,
To the rolling of the bells-
Of the bells, bells, bells:
To the tolling of the bells,
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells-
Bells, bells, bells-
To the moaning and the groaning of the bells.
poem by Edgar Allan Poe
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Dreyfus
France has no dungeon in her island tomb
So deep that she may hide injustice there;
The cry of innocence, despite her care,—
Despite her roll of drums, her cannon's boom,—
Is heard wherever human hearts have room
For sympathy: a sob upon the air,
Echoed and reëchoed everywhere,
It swells and swells, a prophecy of doom.
Thou latest victim of an ancient hate!
In agony so awfully alone,
The world forgets thee not, nor can forget:
Such martyrdom she feels to be her own,
And sees involved in thine her larger fate;
She questions, and thy foes shall answer yet.
poem by Florence Earle Coates from Mine and Thine (1904)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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All for the One
Emotions melt
Like slivers of chocolate on the tongue..
She rises
With the luminosity of a thousand burning suns
And enchants the world
With her dance.
Music swells and descends
With her every step..
She controls it
It does not control her..
Yes, in the intricacy woven finer than a spider's web..
You can not tell
Whether
She inspires the music
Or it inspires her..
He sits
Watching
Mesmerized
Waiting for their eyes to lock..
She does not need to see him
So palpable is his presence
She feels him..
With a thousand drumbeats
Her heart lets her know..
The wind whispers in her ear
'Today'
In her garden
By the light of the milky rusty full moon
A flower blossoms
And on it's velvet crimson petals
Is the morning's sweet dew..
Pooled and waiting
As
A nightingale sings
Sings for someone..
A moth flutters by,
Flying swiftly to his descent..
She is lost to all
But, can not deny
That at times she swells..
Is overcome by
Feeling
What strange spell is this?
What compels her
Time and time again?
What frenzy?
What madness?
What let's her know
That his..
His is the soul
She has been waiting for?
poem by Rabia Minhas
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Ocean Breakers
She went to water;
she always did.
The heaving ocean
matched her heavy breathing;
it was a Ocean of Tears
like hers.
The swells crash
against the shore
relentlessly;
life was relentless too.
The foam;
Anger in the Water that day.
She went to water
she always did,
moving among the sand dunes,
face against the wind.
The sea gulls overhead;
caw! caw! caw!
She lifts her arms,
the wind blows her sleeves
making a flapping sound;
she could hear whispers
between the breakers,
she could hear weeping
among the retreating waves.
She stood there
on the Edge of Forever.
There is no end to the ocean.
Every day it calls to the Sun
and makes it rise.
.
Every night it extinguishes it.
She could walk to China;
she could
and no one would know;
no one would know.
The voice said
'I thought I would find you here'
Waves crashing
more soothing now
two tracks in the sand.
Sad swells
rise again
and retreat;
time and ocean breaks
bring them back together again.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Where the Blue Begins
In the southern Adriatic, where the blue begins,
We came to rest awhile and play
On sun-drenched islands known as Tremiti,
Where the breeze blows fresh
And pine trees shiver and the salt sea
Washes the likes of you and me,
In the southern Adriatic, in the wind-blown spray.
In the bluest water, just where it begins,
We came to play awhile, came to rest
On rocky shores of barren coves,
As the swells arrived and water splashed
And reflected sunlight jumped and shimmered
Among the cliffs and overhangs and grottoes,
In the Adriatic, where that sort of thing begins.
In the clear blue water that the swells bring by
Out of the sunny Adriatic Sea,
We came to rest and play and bathe ourselves,
As the pine trees swayed on the bluffs above
And wind dispersed the salt sea spray,
In the sunny Adriatic, where a way of life begins.
We came seeking an immersion, to find ourselves
In waters clear enough to fathom
A bottom profoundly blue, to see it seemed
All the way to Greece or any other site
That water washed as well or sun could so ignite,
Came to see ourselves in a world of dreams,
That words might furnish what place implies,
That place might finish what a word begins.
We came seeking clearest water, sunniest sky,
Came, you and I, to see what would be seen
Immersed in waters consummately blue,
In sunlit swells that carried their dark secret,
Tiny hosts known as meduse, whose fragile arms
Glanced and stung and burned all day
And raised the blush that blossomed on our skins,
Aggravated by the sun and spray,
By our own attempts to hold each other,
As we swam out of ourselves and were swept away,
In the southern Adriatic, where the blue begins.
poem by George Bradley
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Wagner
Creeps in half wanton, half asleep,
One with a fat wide hairless face.
He likes love-music that is cheap;
Likes women in a crowded place;
And wants to hear the noise they're making.
His heavy eyelids droop half-over,
Great pouches swing beneath his eyes.
He listens, thinks himself the lover,
Heaves from his stomach wheezy sighs;
He likes to feel his heart's a-breaking.
The music swells. His gross legs quiver.
His little lips are bright with slime.
The music swells. The women shiver.
And all the while, in perfect time,
His pendulous stomach hangs a-shaking.
poem by Rupert Brooke (1908)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Blanket of fog swells
Blue stream reflects sky and trees
Autumn foliage darts
haiku by Dorothy Holmes (06 June 2008)
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The Feel Good Revolution
Come by when you get off work
I'll be sitting around doing nothing
We can wait till the sun goes down
Then we can drive off deep into the night
I don't care where we're going
As long as I'm going with you
The summer swells in us
With the heat comes a new kind of wanting
Cool nights never cooled us off
Lay around
song performed by by Bright Eyes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Flying fish
As they pierce the bright blue gleaming water
I have seen them leap and play
in a immeasurable ocean
glistening on a hot summer day
and mysterious like flying arrows
they fly over breaking sea swells,
plunging down into the depths again
into a world of sea-weeds and shells.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The river swells with the contribution of the small streams.
Let your love be like drizzle: it comes softly, but still swells the river.
Sweet And Sweet And Sweet
Sweet and Sweet and Sweet
Date: June 28,2012
Ah, sweet, and sweet and sweet
Lemon ice on a hot day
Melting, cool on the tongue
A slide into quicksand
Sinking, sinking, in weightless frenzy
Just sweet, and sweet and sweet
Silver-blue lightning strikes
Limbs climb skyward, rain quenched
I praise to Eros
A flash of light, the smell of flame
So sweet, and sweet and sweet
A sigh caught and caged
The current swells and falls
Swells and falls…in concert
Rushing toward the shore
It's sweet, and sweet and sweet
Sticky, warm and welcome
Hot peppermint on a cat's tail
Painting abstract portraits on the horizon
A masterpiece…flawless
********************* ************************
Copyright © 2012 Leria Hawkins, All Rights Reserved
poem by Leria Hawkins
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With A Song In My Heart
Verse 1
Though I know that we meet evry night
And we couldnt heve change since the last time,
To my joy and delight,
Its a new kind of love at first sight.
Though its you and its I all the time
Evry meetings marvelous pastime.
Youre increasingly sweet,
So whenever we happened to met
I greet you ...
Refrain
With a song in my heart
I behold your adorable face.
Just a song at the start
But it soon is a hymn to your grace.
When the music swells
Im touching you hand
It tells that yourre standing near, and ..
At the sound of your voice
Heaven opens his portals to me.
Can I help but rejoice
That a song such as ours came to be?
But I always knew
I would live life through
With a song in my heart for you.
Verse 2
Oh, the moons not a moon for a night
And these stars will not twinkle and fade out,
And the words in my ears
Will resound for the rest of my years.
In the morning I find with delight
Not a note of our music is played out.
It will be just as sweet,
And an air that Ill live to repeat:
I greet you ...
Refrain
With a song in my heart
I behold your adorable face.
Just a song at the start
But it soon is a hymn to your grace.
When the music swells
Im touching you hand
It tells that youre standing near, and ..
At the sound of your voice
Heaven opens his portals to me.
Can I help but rejoice
That a song such as ours came to be?
But I always knew
I would live life through
With a song in my heart for you.
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Not everything on the body that swells is a boil.
He who swells in prosperity will shrink in adversity.
The Shadowy Passages of Another School
Coming swiftly towards Christmas while
All of the boats and their
Pirates swing-
And the oceans look so beautiful, whilst the rose
Bushes are all awash-
And the forts of your harems are always so beautiful
That their colors cannot even be described,
But they keep to themselves,
And keep flying their unsurrendered flags
Underneath the heavens whilst I search for
My own home,
As the sea swells and becomes too beautiful and
Doesn’t even care,
As my sisters travel further and further away from
Me,
As you keep your mouth to my ear, and keep
Wanting to promise me “promises, ”
Forcing me to spend the weekends alone-
Getting massages,
And losing all of my faiths as the sea swells,
And the airplanes fly higher and higher, managing themselves,
And trying to keep up the witchcrafts- whilst, eventually,
I cannot even bother,
As the sunlight burns forever through the windows of
Trailer parks, and the evil I know just gets more
Evil- and the super heroes fail while we all travel back
Again to the shadowy passages of another school.
poem by Bret R. Crabrooke
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Where The Super Heroes Fail
Coming swiftly towards Christmas while
All of the boats and their
Pirates swing-
And the oceans look so beautiful, whilst the rose
Bushes are all awash-
And the forts of your harems are always so beautiful
That their colors cannot even be described,
But they keep to themselves,
And keep flying their unsurrendered flags
Underneath the heavens whilst I search for
My own home,
As the sea swells and becomes too beautiful and
Doesn’t even care,
As my sisters travel further and further away from
Me,
As you keep your mouth to my ear, and keep
Wanting to promise me “promises, ”
Forcing me to spend the weekends alone-
Getting massages,
And losing all of my faiths as the sea swells,
And the airplanes fly higher and higher, managing themselves,
And trying to keep up the witchcrafts- whilst, eventually,
I cannot even bother,
As the sunlight burns forever through the windows of
Trailer parks, and the evil I know just gets more
Evil- and the super heroes fail while we all travel back
Again to the shadowy passages of another school.
poem by Bret R. Crabrooke
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