12th Of Never Goin' Happen
.....Norwalk vigils
.........Spot...new...digs
. ..........Cast my cares to Sherlock
...Love...The...Electric...Line.. .Pigs
...Care...to...take...a...tu mble?
.....'Round...my...prickly..pear...and... thorny...weeds?
............Or..would...you..rather...rum ble?
...About...Homers Epic: ...And..Circes..poisnous...deeds?
..........Send...me...some..ambro sia
......To...find...out.....what.....i.. ..really.....mean
...And..if..you..get..lu cky..................(.Doubful!)
..............I....just........might..... come............................clean!
Sherlocks...a...good...Detective
He... spotted...the...other...pig...in...the...tree!
Dedicated to: The Greek Epic Poems Of Homer
Personally Dedicated to: H.O.W.
poem by Theodora Onken
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Related quotes
My Mom’s Epic
My mom is so epic,
My kin doesn’t know what to do,
She handles things her own way,
She is a tree, mighty and strong,
Like an eagle, mess with her babies,
Let’s say you will go down heavy,
She fights her own mêlées,
She cares for others,
By no way is she introverted,
She’s elation to my life,
Cautious and valiant is just the tip of the ice berg to portray her,
She’s interminable,
She’s been with me ever since I could remember,
I will always love her,
For she is MY EPIC MOM!
poem by Qeeony Luv
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dedicated Follower Of Fashion
They seek him here, they seek him there,
His clothes are loud, but never square.
It will make or break him so hes got to buy the best,
cause hes a dedicated follower of fashion.
And when he does his little rounds,
round the boutiques of london town,
Eagerly pursuing all the latest fads and trends,
cause hes a dedicated follower of fashion.
Oh yes he is (oh yes he is), oh yes he is (oh yes he is).
He thinks he is a flower to be looked at,
And when he pulls his frilly nylon panties right up tight,
He feels a dedicated follower of fashion.
Oh yes he is (oh yes he is), oh yes he is (oh yes he is).
Theres one thing that he loves and that is flattery.
One week hes in polka-dots, the next week he is in stripes.
cause hes a dedicated follower of fashion.
They seek him here, they seek him there,
In regent street and leicester square.
Everywhere the carnabetian army marches on,
Each one an dedicated follower of fashion.
Oh yes he is (oh yes he is), oh yes he is (oh yes he is).
His world is built round discoteques and parties.
This pleasure-seeking individual always looks his best
cause hes a dedicated follower of fashion.
Oh yes he is (oh yes he is), oh yes he is (oh yes he is).
He flits from shop to shop just like a butterfly.
In matters of the cloth he is as fickle as can be,
cause hes a dedicated follower of fashion.
Hes a dedicated follower of fashion.
Hes a dedicated follower of fashion.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Framing a spurt of Spring
the day is baroque
with daisies' faces
lifted to the sun
my feet lift and knock
on spring's lenient ground
where tortoises' dance
lead them to drink from proud
prickly pear's leaf
and rocks are small
under the yellow rays
of the round clock
the slow spring day
is ticking and saying
the day is baroque
and colour licks
an orange shock
for autumn's mind
left summer behind
in green thorny itch
and I am treading
an interesting quest
for prickly pear's nest
in a field of daisies
and winter's leaking ills
in the splendor of spring
Epic Smile
Time slows;
then stops.
You have an epic smile,
shining brightly to challenge the sun.
You laugh with your soul,
eyes sparkling in the light.
You have an epic smile,
one I will never forget.
My heart leaps at your voice,
a smile shattering the gloom of life.
You have an epic smile,
brighter than a thousand suns.
I will think of you often,
though truthfully I already do.
You have an epic smile, my muse,
one that will always be with me.
poem by Brian Hinckley
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Epic Memories
Childhood memories
and
old photographs,
different games,
and
enjoyable days,
those perfect timings
with you
'Mannae',
all are perfectly abiding...
But
where you have gone
bro,
where to find you,
all these immortal
and epic memories
reminds me of you....
DEDICATED TO MY COUSIN WHO IS NO MORE.
poem by Tanveer Sharma
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And now may the blessing of God rest upon all men. I have told unto them the Epic of Kings, and the Epic of Kings is come to a close, and the tale of their deeds is ended.
Dedicated
Dedicated to those
Who fought and survived
Dedicated to those
Who fought and died
Dedicated to those
Simple men with
A great dream of peace
Dedicated to those
Families who cried
At their loved ones funeral
Dedicated to those
Who supported our troops
From beginning to end
I dedicate this to you
And hope that you'll continue
With what you do
I dedicate this to you...
poem by Janelle Morehart
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Give Me the Harp of Epic Song
Give me the harp of epic song,
Which Homer's finger thrill'd along;
But tear away the sanguine string,
For war is not the theme I sing.
Proclaim the laws of festal rite,
I'm monarch of the board tonight;
And all around shall brim as high,
And quaff the tide as deep as I!
And when the cluster's mellowing dews
Their warm, enchanting balm infuse,
Our feet shall catch th' elastic bound,
And reel us through the dance's round.
Oh Bacchus! we shall sing to thee,
In wild but sweet ebriety!
And flash around such sparks of thought,
As Bacchus could alone have taught!
Then give the harp of epic song,
Which Homer's finger thrill'd along;
But tear away the sanguine string,
For war is not the theme I sing!
Epic Poem
This poem is epic
so I named it so
it's more epic than wind and snow
which are in there own respects quite epic
snow could be described as ghetto
and wind can take on epic forms
like a spinning tiger with legs made of iron bars
that would be pretty epic
infact I think that happened in outer mongolia
to a young girl how got hit by the iron bars
sadly she died
but the type of death was one we all wish for
over exposure to pure epicness
like viewing a snail with a lightsaber who flies over mountains made of cheese
that's bleedin' epic
imagine it if you can
can you?
I imagined it so according to the ontological arguement
it exists
im scared now
it may be coming to get me
and although I will suffer the best kind of death
it will be death still
and what is death without life
it is simply death
that was mock epic
those statements aren't as deep as you think they are
they are meerly the ramblings of a crazy man
you fell for it did you not
I know you did for I can see you
your PC moniter is actually a camera
If you're paranoid then you will be scared now
and for that reason I laugh
I can see your fear
I smell it
it is like raspberry ripple ice cream
your fear is wierd
I don't like you anymore
this poem is bleedin' epic!
poem by Torben Duncan
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Hotel Detective
She's got her ear to the walls and she's tappin' the calls
If you've got a secret boy, forget about it, 'cause she's a
Hotel detective
My little
Hotel detective
Yeah she's a
Hotel detective
Why don't you check her out
Well the bellhop is funky
The dumbwaiter's a monkey
If there's a knock at the door, boy, forget about it, 'cause she's a
Hotel detective
My little
Hotel detective
Yeah
Hotel detective
Cone on and check her out
She says she likes my face
She says she owns the place
Forget about it, 'cause she's a
Hotel detective
My little
Hotel detective
Come on her
Hotel detective
Why don't you check her out
Hotel detective
Come on and swing with me
Hotel detective
From the top of a tree
Hotel detective
And make me feel like a bee
Hotel detective
That's where i want to know you
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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(She Was A) Hotel Detective (single Mix)
She's got her ear to the walls and she's tappin' the calls
If you've got a secret boy, forget about it, 'cause she's a
Hotel Detective
my little
Hotel Detective
yeah she's a
Hotel Detective
Why don't you check her out
Well the bellhop is funky
The dumbwaiter's a monkey
If there's a knock at the door, boy, forget about it, 'cause she's a
Hotel Detective
my little
Hotel Detective
yeah
Hotel Detective
Cone on and check her out
She says she likes my face
She says she owns the place
Forget about it, 'cause she's a
Hotel Detective
my little
Hotel Detective
come on her
Hotel Detective
Why don't you check her out
Hotel Detective
Come on and swing with me
Hotel Detective
From the top of a tree
Hotel Detective
And make me feel like a bee
Hotel Detective
That's where I want to know you
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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With several different kinds of poetry to choose from, a man would decide that he would like best to be an epic poet, and he would set out, in conscious determination, on an epic poem.
quote by Lascelles Abercrombie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love Comes From God
Love comes to us from God
The day we was born until the end
We all need love, we want love
We have to have love
Look at the new born baby
How the mother looks at it
See the tears that flow
She forgot the pain
When she looked at the baby
For the first time
Look around at all the animals
How the mother or father
Protects their young at all costs
If we don't have love
Or grow up with parents
Who don't love us
We feel we are to blame
Are we are not good enough
We search for love in all the wrong places
We pick people we know are wrong for us
We find someone who at least pretends to love us
Sometimes we get with people who abuse us
We don't leave because we think we can't do it on our own
A child needs love to grow
To be a better person
To show love and respect
Without love we are lonely souls
Always looking wondering if we will ever find
Someone to love us
Then sometimes we wonder
Am I worth it?
Do they really love me?
Do they really care?
We cry, plead, and bargain with God
If only you will send me someone
If we wait and do what God says
He will send us the right one
The one he wants us with
God got me writing poems
I never thought I would write poems
God is love
He will supply our every need
If we listen and do his will
If he takes care of the flowers and trees
The animals
Don't you think he will take care of us
Believe and you will see what love does
When it comes from God
He does send love.
poem by Angel Plant
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Electric Eye
Up here in space
Im looking down on you
My lasers trace
Everything you do
You think youve private lives
Think nothing of the kind
There is no true escape
Im watching all the time
Im made of metal
My circuits gleam
I am perpetual
I keep the country clean
Im elected electric spy
Im protected electric eye
Always in focus
You cant feel my stare
I zoom into you
You dont know Im there
I take a pride in probing all your secret moves
My tearless retina takes pictures that can prove
Im made of metal
My circuits gleam
I am perpetual
I keep the country clean
Im elected electric spy
Im protected electric eye
Electric eye, in the sky
Feel my stare, always there
Theres nothing you can do about it
Develop and expose
I feed upon your every thought
And so my power grows
Im made of metal
My circuits gleam
I am perpetual
I keep the country clean
Im elected electric spy
Im protected electric eye
Protected. detective. electric eye
song performed by by Judas Priest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'd Rather Be Fishing
When you cast your bait into the sea
isn't it marvelous that you can't really see
what's nibbling around it, circlin' your way?
For most of the fun of a good fishing day
is the surprise of the catch
that's been tuggin' on your line.
The feeling you get when you say, 'You're mine.'
And in the event that your catch gets away
all it does is prolong your stay.
And isn't that why you love to fish?
You're close to the sea and the salty air.
There's nothing like it anywhere.
So grab your pole, your rod and line
and head out to the salty brine.
Dedicated to my husband Lee who is an avid fisherman.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Who Cares
They stand and look at things
with their eyes closed tight.
They claim to see just what others don’t,
branding someone a liar and deceiver.
Sadly, they are the ones
who deceive themselves all the time.
Who worries if someone uses a different name
whenever they sit down to write?
I personally don’t.
Who cares if they make up an age they want to be.
I personally don’t.
Who cares if they exaggerates
about what they may or may not have done.
I personally don’t care.
Everyone no matter who they are
wants to be someone different at sometime or other,
and there is nothing wrong in that.
Just so long at the end of it,
they are happy in their own way.
I have no quarrel
with what anyone does
and I don’t think
anyone else should do neither.
1 April 2008
poem by David Harris
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I Do Not Want To Die...
war is not epic,
but it can fix problems (in a way) .
war kills many peole,
but is it for the best?
war is very hurtful,
but someone always wins.
war is but nothing except killing and winning...
war is but...
soldiers dying,
war can kill,
but I DO NOT WANT TO DIE,
i want to go home,
i saw brown leaves falling down,
war is the time you need friens the most,
I DO NOT WANT TO DIE...
Juvenalia I
They are the poems you found leatherbound
in a cedar drawer, decades later
dedicated to their 'only begetter'
the girl (where is she now?) you took to the senior prom
in your fathers' fancy, foreign luxury car.
Inhabited by Circes, Aphrodites, Maeves,
influences you never knew you had
none, mind you, awfully bad
employing every Italian form known
to occidental man, perfectly rhymed and sad.
some quite good and none, I stress, especially bad:
sonnets, odes, epodes, a tearful sestina
one parsed-out in queasy terza-rima
(English being a rhyme-poor tongue)
one boldly comparing love to influenza. (!) (?)
Nor are there French influences wanting-
viralays, rondalays, rondeaux:
there in the walled garden blows the tall rose
of Ronsard, beside the pretty orchard
of yellow pears ahanging.
poem by Morgan Michaels
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To My Dear Friend…
Dear friend, I like you very much
Because you give a soothing touch
By words, that lifts my mind and heart,
And helps me do my work with art!
To find good friends these days is rare,
And those who like and love and care,
And those who experiences share,
And goad others to do and dare!
You are my friend who's good indeed:
Who labours hard without some greed;
Who gives me useful tips and leads
To help me pluck out life's thorns/ weeds!
You are one man who looks so great
In world unclean, with clean a slate:
Who I have found rarely till date,
Who I can consider top-rate!
Thank you, dear friend for all you've done,
And interest in me, you have shown,
And boosted my spirits run down,
And cheering me up when alone!
God bless you amply for your ways;
God grant you happiness all days;
God keep you safe aright always;
God give you laughing, smiling face!
Fondly dedicated to my dear friend at IRT, Chennai
Copyright by Dr John Celes 8-6-2012
poem by John Celes
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Birds Are Not My Epic
When I’ll write an epic for the animals
Particularly birds with their wings and beaks and claws
They’ll make me sick to think of them in the bathroom
When all the intense images I’ll see are them flying
Over and above my head out from the shower faucet
Those weird throbbing like needles on my skins
Are brandishing my mortality to hate the images
I admit of them my number one phobia
I cannot run a writing race overnight with such of them as characters
They can be epic but they cannot be mine
Say if my rationality is purely an excuse
But I am this mortal who does fear
Birds are birds and I cannot undress them
Who has dreads and who has courage?
Birds are not my epic
poem by Chester Maynes
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