Sonnet 57: Woe, Having Made With Many Fights
Woe, having made with many fights his own
Each sense of mine; each gift, each power of mind
Grown now his slaves, he forc'd them out to find
The thoroughest words, fit for Woe's self to groan,
Hoping that when they might find Stella alone,
Before she could prepare to be unkind,
Her soul, arm'd but with such a dainty rind,
Should soon be pierc'd with sharpness of the moan.
She heard my plaints, and did not only hear,
But them (so sweet is she) most sweetly sing,
With that fair breast making woe's darkness clear:
A pretty case! I hoped her to bring
To feel my griefs, and she with face and voice
So sweets my pains, that my pains me rejoice.
poem by Philip Sidney
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To Stella, Written On The Day Of Her Birth. March 13, 1723-4, But Not On The Subject, When I Was Sick In Bed
Tormented with incessant pains,
Can I devise poetic strains?
Time was, when I could yearly pay
My verse to Stella's native day:
But now unable grown to write,
I grieve she ever saw the light.
Ungrateful! since to her I owe
That I these pains can undergo.
She tends me like an humble slave;
And, when indecently I rave,
When out my brutish passions break,
With gall in every word I speak,
She with soft speech my anguish cheers,
Or melts my passions down with tears;
Although 'tis easy to descry
She wants assistance more than I;
Yet seems to feel my pains alone,
And is a stoic in her own.
When, among scholars, can we find
So soft and yet so firm a mind?
All accidents of life conspire
To raise up Stella's virtue higher;
Or else to introduce the rest
Which had been latent in her breast.
Her firmness who could e'er have known,
Had she not evils of her own?
Her kindness who could ever guess,
Had not her friends been in distress?
Whatever base returns you find
From me, dear Stella, still be kind.
In your own heart you'll reap the fruit,
Though I continue still a brute.
But, when I once am out of pain,
I promise to be good again;
Meantime, your other juster friends
Shall for my follies make amends;
So may we long continue thus,
Admiring you, you pitying us.
poem by Jonathan Swift
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Sonnet 106: Oh Absent Presence
Oh absent presence, Stella is not here;
False flattering Hope, that with so fair a face
Bare me in hand, that in this orphan place,
Stella, I say my Stella, should appear:
What sayest thou now? Where is that dainty cheer
Thou toldst mine eyes should help their famish'd case?
But thou art gone, now that self felt disgrace
Doth make me most to wish my comfort near.
But here I do store of fair ladies meet,
Who may with charm of conversation sweet
Make in my heavy mold new thought to grow:
Sure they prevail as much with me as he
That bade his friend, but then new maim'd, to be
Merry with him, and not think of his woe.
poem by Philip Sidney
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Sonnet 87: When I Was Forc'd From Stella
When I was forc'd from Stella, ever dear
Stella, food of my thoughts, heart of my heart;
Stella, whose eyes make all my tempests clear,
By iron laws of duty to depart:
Alas I found that she with me did smart;
I saw that tears did in her eyes appear;
I saw that sighs her sweetest lips did part,
And her sad words my saddest sense did hear.
For me, I wept to see pearls scatter'd so;
I sigh'd her sighs, and wailed for her woe,
Yet swam in joy, such love in her was seen.
Thus, while th'effect most bitter was to me,
And nothing than the couse more sweet could be,
I had been vex'd, if vex'd I had not been.
poem by Philip Sidney
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An Old Man Medicates His Pains Away
AN OLD MAN MEDICATES HIS PAINS AWAY
An old man medicates his pains away
He wants to live in his mind
As if his body can be temporarily forgotten-
He tries to be as he once was
Easy in the skin of himself -
But the pains the pains the pains
They come from different directions
They interrupt they remind they dismay
The pains the pains
They may go away for a time
But they don’t forget to sharpen again-
An old man does not want to think of his body as his enemy
He is no pure mind and does not dream to be
But the pains
When so many come at once
And when no medication can really put a stop to them-
They will defeat him -
Drugged into restless sleep
He will not be able to die without them.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I Know Youre Out There Somewhere
I know youre out there somewhere
Somewhere, somewhere
I know Ill find you somehow
Somehow, somehow
And somehow Ill return again to you
The mist is lifting slowly
I can see the way ahead
And Ive left behind the empty streets
That once inspired my life
And the strength of the emotion
Is like thunder in the air
cos the promise that we made each other
Haunts me to the end
I know youre out there somewhere
Somewhere, somewhere
I know youre out there somewhere
Somewhere you can hear my voice
I know Ill find you somehow
Somehow, somehow
I know Ill find you somehow
And somehow Ill return again to you
The secret of your beauty
And the mystery of your soul
Ive been searching for in everyone I meet
And the times Ive been mistaken
Its impossible to say
And the grass is growing
Underneath our feet
I know youre out there somewhere
Somewhere, somewhere
I know youre out there somewhere
Somewhere you can hear my voice
I know Ill find you somehow
Somehow, somehow
I know Ill find you somehow
And somehow Ill return again to you
From the words that I remember
From my childhood still are true
That theres none so blind
As those who will not see
And to those who lack the courage
And say its dangerous to try
Well they just dont know
That love eternal will not be denied
I know youre out there somewhere
Somewhere, somewhere
I know youre out there somewhere
Somewhere you can hear my voice
I know Ill find you somehow
Somehow, somehow
I know Ill find you somehow
And somehow Ill return again to you
Yes I know its going to happen
I can feel you getting near
And soon well be returning
To the fountain of our youth
And if you wake up wondering
In the darkness Ill be there
My arms will close around you
And protect you with the truth
I know youre out there somewhere
Somewhere, somewhere
I know youre out there somewhere
Somewhere you can hear my voice
I know Ill find you somehow
Somehow, somehow
I know Ill find you somehow
And somehow Ill return again to you
song performed by by Moody Blues
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Sonnet VII: O Had She Not Been Fair
O had she not been fair and thus unkind,
Then had no finger pointed at my lightness;
The world had never known what I do find,
And clouds obscure had shaded still her brightness.
Then had no censor's eye these lines survey'd,
Nor graver brows have judg'd my Muse so vain;
No sun my blush and error had bewray'd,
Nor yet the world had heard of such disdain.
Then had I walk'd with bold erected face;
No downcast look had signified my miss;
But my degraded hopes, with such disgrace
Did force me groan out griefs and utter this.
For, being full, should not I then have spoken,
My sense oppress'd had fail'd, and heart had broken.
poem by Samuel Daniel
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Sonnet 44: My Words, I Know Do Well
My words I know do well set forth my mind,
My mind bemoans his sense of inward smart;
Such smart may pity claim of any heart,
Her heart, sweet heart, is of no tiger's kind:
And yet she hears, yet I no pity find;
But more I cry, less grace she doth impart,
Alas, what cause is there so overthwart,
That nobleness itself makes thus unkind?
I much do guess, yet find no truth save this:
That when the breath of my complaints doth touch
Those dainty doors unto the court of bliss,
The heav'nly nature of that place is such,
That once come there, the sobs of mine annoys
Are metamorphos'd straight to tunes of joys.
poem by Philip Sidney
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Sonnet 36: Stella, Whence Doth This
Stella, whence doth this new assault arise,
A conquer'd, yielden, ransack'd heart to win?
Whereto long since through my long batter'd eyes,
Whole armies of thy beauties entered in.
And there long since, Love thy lieutenant lies,
My forces raz'd, thy banners rais'd within:
Of conquest, do not these effects suffice,
But wilt now war upon thine own begin?
With so sweet voice, and by sweet Nature so
In sweetest strength, so sweetly skill'd withal,
In all sweet stratagems sweet Art can show,
That not my soul, which at thy foot did fall
Long since, forc'd by thy beams, but stone nor tree
By Sense's privilege, can 'scape from thee.
poem by Philip Sidney
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Too Much Pains
there are too much pains...
pains within the heart..
the heart that beats not
for love but wars..
there are too much pains
pains within the soul
the soul that does'nt know God
there are too much pains
pains within the troubled minds
minds who not care for ideas..
poem by Villiamor Calventas
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You Are…To Me…For Me….
Like sugar
Like chocolate
You are so sweet
So sweet to me
Like an old man that’s blind
Or woman who comforts a baby that cries
You are kind
So kind to me
Prayed all my life to find
Yes to find someone like to find
Tried to ignore it but there are feelings growing in my soul…
For you
Yes for you, only for you
Every time I hear your voice
I know to rejoice
Cuz you have my heart
I never want us to part
You are so sweet
So sweet to me
You are so kind
So kind to me
Beautiful inside and out
I don’t have to meet you to know what you’re all about
You got me hoping for this to last
Hoping we can make it past
2 or 3 years
Release your fears
I will not hurt you
Just want to love you
Protect you and take care of you in ways only I know how to
If it’s not too much or no shame
Maybe one day I can carry your last name
But I don’t want to push
Cuz you and I are ordinary people
We can take it slow
I’ll be here and just so you know
I’ll love you til’ the end of time, if you let me
Let’s just be and if it’s real
Then let’s jump in the car and peel
Cuz baby you got that ‘Whip Appeal’
Just know I’ll never cheat, lie, or hurt you
Don’t matter what them other chicks do
I’m down and ONLY FOR YOU!
Cuz you are sweet
So sweet to me
You are kind
So kind to me
ONLY FOR ME! ! !
(©Copyright-May 8,2005)
(For: Platinum Writers Inc)
poem by Aaliyah SantiagoJoseph
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Song of The Stream-Drops
By silent forest and field and mossy stone,
We come from the wooden hill, and we go to the sea.
We labour, and sing sweet songs, but we never moan,
For our mother, the sea, is calling us cheerily.
We have heard her calling us many and many a day
From the cool grey stones and the white sands far away.
The way is long, and winding and slow is the track,
The sharp rocks fret us, the eddies bring us delay,
But we sing sweet songs to our mother, and answer her back;
Gladly we answer our mother, sweetly repay.
Oh, we hear, we hear her singing wherever we roam,
Far, far away in the silence, calling us home.
Poor mortal, your ears are dull, and you cannot hear;
But we, we hear it, the breast of our mother abeat;
Low, far away, sweet and solemn and clear,
Under the hush of the night, under the noon-tide heat:
And we sing sweet songs to our mother, for so we shall please her best,
Songs of beauty and peace, freedom and infinite rest.
We sing, and sing, through the grass and the stones and the reeds,
And we never grow tired, though we journey ever and aye,
Dreaming, and dreaming, wherever the long way leads,
Of the far cool rocks and the rush of the wind and the spray.
Under the sun and the stars we murmur and dance and are free,
And we dream and dream of our mother, the width of the sheltering sea.
poem by Archibald Lampman
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Sweet Bitter
You have seen the face
painted with the color of darkness
some inches down the neck
there is a hole
it pains you know
it pains
the pain of memory
the pain of craving
but there is a pain
which doesn't pain bitterly
it is sweet
this pain is born from that sorrow
which once
sung by me
heard by me
understood only by me
poem by Jyotishman Debnath
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Prepare, Prepare
Prepare, prepare, new Guests draw near
And on the brink of Hell appear.
Kindle fresh Flame of Sulphur there.
Assemble all ye Fiends,
Wait for the dreadful ends
Of impious Men, who far excell
All th'Inhabitants of Hell.
Let 'em come, Let 'em come,
To an Eternal dreadful Doom,
Let 'em come, Let 'em come.
In Mischiefs they have all the Damn'd out-done;
Here they shall weep, and shall unpitty'd groan,
Here they shall howl, and make Eternal moan.
By Bloud and Lust they have deserv'd so well,
That they shall feel the hottest flames of Hell.
In vain they shall here their past mischiefs bewail,
In exquisite Torments that never shall fail.
Eternal Darkness they shall find,
And them Eternal chains shall bind
To infinite pain of Sense and Mind.
Let 'em come, Let 'em come,
To an Eternal dreadful Doom,
Let 'em come, Let 'em come.
poem by Thomas Shadwell
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Christmas Hymn
O CHRIST, born on the holy day,
I have no gift to give my King;
No flowers grow by my weary way;
I have no birthday song to sing.
How can I sing Thy name and praise,
Who never saw Thy face divine;
Who walk in darkness all my days,
And see no Eastern stars a-shine?
Yet, when their Christmas gifts they bring,
How can I leave Thy praise unsung?
How stay from homage to the King,
And hold a silent, grudging tongue?
Lord, I found many a song to sing,
And many a humble hymn of praise
For Thy great Miracle of Spring,
The wonder of the waxing days.
When I beheld Thy days and years,
Did I not sing Thy pleasant earth?
The moons of love, the years of tears,
The mysteries of death and birth?
Have I not sung with all my soul
While soul and song were mine to yield,
Thy lightning crown, Thy cloud-control,
The dewy clover of Thy field?
Have I not loved Thy birds and beasts,
Thy streams and woods, Thy sun and shade;
Have I not made me holy feasts
Of all the beauty Thou hast made?
What though my tear-tired eyes, alas!
Won never grace Thy face to see?
I heard Thy footstep on the grass,
Thy voice in every wind-blown tree.
No music now I make or win,
Yet, Lord, remember I have been
The lover of Thy world, wherein
I found nought common or unclean.
Grown old and blind, I sing no more,
Thy saints in heaven sing sweet and strong,
Yet take the songs I made of yore
For echoes to Thy birthday song.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Stella And Flavia.
Stella and Flavia, ev'ry Hour,
Unnumber'd Hearts surprize:
In Stella's Soul lies all her Pow'r,
And Flavia's, in her Eyes.
More boundless Flavia's Conquests are,
And Stella's more confin'd:
All can discern a Face that's fair,
But few a lovely Mind.
Stella, like Britain's Monarch, reigns
O'er cultivated Lands;
Like Eastern Tyrants, Flavia deigns
To rule o'er barren Sands.
Then boast, fair Flavia, boast your Face,
Your Beauty's only Store:
Your Charms will ev'ry Day decrease,
Each Day gives Stella more.
poem by Mary Barber
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Between Hatred and Desire
He thought I was sleeping
but I was not.
I felt his heavy stares on me,
I heard his heavy sighs.
And then for a magic moment
he touched my face;
so soft that i could feel
feathers kissing my dainty cheeks.
And then for a pretty moment
he said those pretty words;
so soft that i could hear
eternity from heaven in his voice.
He touched my face
with murmurs of delight...
oh, how i wish the stars would
fall tonight!
I was caught between
my hatred and desire...
as i felt his body close to mine,
I fairly fought the fire.
I tried so hard to ignore
but his presence stirred my blood.
Did he hear my heartbeats racing
as I struggled deep inside?
I wish I was sleeping
but I was not.
poem by Jessel Jane Tevar
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Dwelling In Mesech
What a mournful life is mine,
Fill with crosses, pains and cares!
Every work defiled with sin,
Every step beset with snares!
If alone I pensive fit,
I myself can hardly bear;
If I pass along the street,
Sin and riot triumph there.
Jesus! how my heart is pained,
How it mourns for souls deceived!
When I hear thy name profaned,
When I see thy Spirit grieved!
When thy children's griefs I view,
Their distress becomes my own;
All I hear, or see, or do,
Makes me tremble, weep and groan.
Mourning thus I long had been,
When I heard my Saviour's voice;
Thou hast cause to mourn for sin,
But in me thou may'st rejoice.
This kind word dispelled my grief,
Put to silence my complaints;
Though of sinners I am chief,
He his ranked me with his saints.
Though constrained to dwell a while
Where the wicked strive and brawl;
Let them frown; so he but smile,
Heav'n will make amends for all.
There, believers, we shall rest,
Free from sorrow, sin and fears;
Nothing there our peace molests,
Through eternal rounds of years.
Let us then the fight endure,
See our Captain looking down;
He will make the conquest sure,
And bestow the promised crown.
poem by John Newton
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A Case Of Moving On
The pains of life
are etched across my face,
no longer do I find satisfaction
in some of the things I have done,
and instead all I find is despair.
When I ask myself why
I get no answer there,
only that I should move on,
find pastures green and new.
Let the past fade away,
turn my life around,
discard all the baggage
of the life I once knew,
seek something more pleasurable
and easier on the eyes.
It’s not a case of running away,
but a case of moving on.
4 August 2008
poem by David Harris
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One Clear Voice
The whole world is talking
Drowning out my voice
How can I hear myself
With all this noise
But all this confusion
Just disappears
When I find a quiet place
Where I can hear
(chorus)
One clear voice
Calling out for me to listen
One clear voice
Whispers words of wisdom
I close my eyes
till I find what Ive been missing
If Im very still, I will hear
One clear voice
Im always searching
For which path to take
Sometimes Im so afraid
To make mistakes
From somewhere inside me
Stronger than my fears
Just like the sound of music
To my ears, I hear
Chorus
song performed by by Peter Cetera
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cruel Young Lover
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?
Just because you can
You treat me like a fool
But just because you can
Dont make it right
Can it be so hard
To be a little kind
And you could be here
With me tonight
Ive got feelings
Dont be unkind
Feelings
Dont be unkind
Feelings
Stay with me tonight
Youve been stealing
Thats so unkind
Stealing
A heart, a mind
Stealing
Stay with me tonight
Cruel young lover
Blow your mind out
Time will come when
You will find out
Time will take your cruel power away
Cruel young lover
Try to stand out
Will it always pay
To bland out?
Time will take your cruel power away
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?
Once again youre gone
Somewhere in the night
Disappearing
Leaving me alone
The lure of city streets
The pull of unknown souls
The overpowering draw
Of the unknown
Youve been stealing
Thats so unkind
Stealing
A heart, a mind
Im appealing
Stay with me tonight
Cruel young lover
Hit the action
Can you live on your attraction
Time may take your cruel power away
Cruel young lover
Try to stand out
Will it always pay
To bland out?
Time will take your cruel power away
Cruel young lover
Ah ah ah ah
Ah ah ah ah
Ah ah ah ah
Do you hear me?
Cruel young lover
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?
Cruel young lover
Do you hear me?
Cruel young lover
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?
Cruel young lover
Ah ah ah ah ah
Ah ah ah ah ah
Do you hear me?
Cruel young lover
Ah ah ah ah ah
Ah ah ah ah ah
Do you hear me?
Cruel young lover
Ah ah ah ah ah
Thats so unkind
Do you hear me?
Thats so unkind
Do you hear me?
Thats so unkind
Cruel young lover
Thats so unkind
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?
Ah ah ah ah ah
Cruel young lover
Thats so unkind
Do you hear me?
Thats so unkind
Thats so unkind
Do you hear me?
Thats so unkind
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?
Cruel young lover
Cruel young lover
Do you hear me?
Thief
Do you hear me?
Thief
Do you hear me?
Thats so unkind
Thats so unkind
song performed by by Human League
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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