Amalfi
Mountains erupt from the Mediterranean
Pastel buildings cascade down their side
Architecture and the sea acts as prisms
Creating a: kissed by the sun- spectrum of delight;
A handful of villages will be your backdrop
Upon your journey of the Amalfi coast
You will travel the fabled serpentine Amalfi road
Ah, Italia...You are such a wonderful host! ;
Pastel coloured towns-invite you
As they cling to the craggy cliffs most divine
Vertical landscapes are fit for a King
The sandy coves-and brightly coloured villages-sublime;
'Tis home to Ulysses' mythical sirens
The Amalfi coast-calls to you
From the past times ancient ruins
Or cruising the Isle of Capri's waters of blue;
Oh, so many incredible places and food-
Ravello and Positano are but a few
Exquisite to all of ones senses-
Italia, oh Italia-'tis calling you! ;
By, Theodora Onken
February 4,2012
poem by Theodora Onken
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Related quotes
Snake In The Grass
We do not know your method...
As of yet, it is unclear
Like a snake in the grass, you move
Filling us full of crap, my dear! ! ! !
Can feel it, when under the influence...
As the blood pressure truly soars
Heart beat is rapid and irregular
Yet you continue on with more and more;
How many trips to the doctor will it take?
How many tests on our food and drink?
What will it take to make you stop?
If you have a conscience-what do you think?
Call it whatever you want but its criminal
For now we will just call it crack cocaine
And WE WILL get the proof that is needed...
Even if, this all causes a world of pain;
What is it that you are after?
Because you have achieved at making people ill
Were you hired by Mr. West Coast-Boston?
Or are you just out for the thrill of the kill?
By, Theodora Onken
A write about the illegal spiking of ones
Food or drink with drugs that kill...
Premeditated Homicide In The Making
An ongoing problem-A Reality
By, Theodora Onken
February 28,2012
poem by Theodora Onken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Let Us Forget Our Villages...
Villages, my friend, are no more those heavens.
You used to tell about villages living, I remember.
Villages, my friend, are no more those marvels.
You used to boast about the ones quite variant, I recall.
Villages have begun to grow its heights,
Its vast expanses shrinking to a few yards.
Villages have sent away their caring mothers to the towns,
Villages have driven away their milky animals to the farm houses.
That`s why my friend, I can`t take you to my village
And when you offer to do so, I am not inclined.
Let us hide in the fortress of this city`s hard walls known to us and
Forget our villages where our memories wander as ghosts.
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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Salve Saturnia Tellus
I reached the Alps: the soul within me burned
Italia, my Italia, at thy name:
And when from out the mountain's heart I came
And saw the land for which my life had yearned,
I laughed as one who some great prize had earned:
And musing on the story of thy fame
I watched the day, till marked with wounds of flame
The turquoise sky to burnished gold was turned
The pine-trees waved as waves a woman's hair,
And in the orchards every twining spray
Was breaking into flakes of blossoming foam:
But when I knew that far away at Rome
In evil bonds a second Peter lay,
I wept to see the land so very fair.
poem by Oscar Wilde
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Sonnet On Approaching Italy
I REACHED the Alps: the soul within me burned
Italia, my Italia, at thy name:
And when from out the mountain's heart I came
And saw the land for which my life had yearned,
I laughed as one who some great prize had earned:
And musing on the story of thy fame
I watched the day, till marked with wounds of flame
The turquoise sky to burnished gold was turned,
The pine-trees waved as waves a woman's hair,
And in the orchards every twining spray
Was breaking into flakes of blossoming foam:
But when I knew that far away at Rome
In evil bonds a second Peter lay,
I wept to see the land so very fair.
poem by Oscar Wilde
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Beloved
An ancient river carries your name-
In silver caverns so deep-
A Princess sits crying her heart out-
In the depths of sorrow, she continues to weep.
Calling her name only echos return-
Bleeding hearts are broken into-
Shallow niche's under a rippling spring-
Under paisley skies of colbalt blue.
Come calling my sweetness-
Into the nation of butterfly and bee-
Come calling my beloved-
Come caling, come calling to me.
Aristocrats of ancient lore-
Come knocking-
Come knocking -
Come knocking upon your door...
Gifted in inspiration-
Pictures coloured in your head-
Sweet Princess Divine-
Come and love me instead.
Praise be to you my darling-
As your name in the river still flows-
Bordered now by fields of wild daisy-
Allow, my beloved, our sweet love to grow...
April 14,2009
Dedicated to: Emily Dickinson (Amherst, Mass)
poem by Theodora Onken
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Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 3. Interlude I.
'O Edrehi, forbear to-night
Your ghostly legends of affright,
And let the Talmud rest in peace;
Spare us your dismal tales of death
That almost take away one's breath;
So doing, may your tribe increase.'
Thus the Sicilian said; then went
And on the spinet's rattling keys
Played Marianina, like a breeze
From Naples and the Southern seas,
That brings us the delicious scent
Of citron and of orange trees,
And memories of soft days of ease
At Capri and Amalfi spent.
'Not so,' the eager Poet said;
'At least, not so before I tell
The story of my Azrael,
An angel mortal as ourselves,
Which in an ancient tome I found
Upon a convent's dusty shelves,
Chained with an iron chain, and bound
In parchment, and with clasps of brass,
Lest from its prison, some dark day,
It might be stolen or steal away,
While the good friars were singing mass.
'It is a tale of Charlemagne,
When like a thunder-cloud, that lowers
And sweeps from mountain-crest to coast,
With lightning flaming through its showers,
He swept across the Lombard plain,
Beleaguering with his warlike train
Pavia, the country's pride and boast,
The City of the Hundred Towers.'
Thus heralded the tale began,
And thus in sober measure ran.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Book Of Days
'Tis written in my book 'O days
In this season 'O living and sweet blooming love
Your gentle hands shall guide me on my journey
Into our promised land- so high above;
A golden leading on the path to our heaven
I am at home in a spectrum of blue
Divine and blessed beyond any question
Consecrated in a love-so true;
'Tis written in my book of days
Remembrance O' the tender warmth O' your kiss
Engraved in a promise of evermore-my darling
Aglow in true loves everlasting bliss;
By, Theodora Onken
December 31,2011
poem by Theodora Onken
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Rose Coloured Glasses
(scott mccarl)
Im an ivory tower boy
Never quite put down the toys
I always think the best of them all
I see only sunny skies
With the wool over my eyes
I never seem to find the crack or the fault
I see it all through rose coloured glasses
And I only see what matters to me
I see you all through rose coloured classes, yeah
The road that I chose is coloured rose
Its a funny sort of haze
All full of dreams of yesterdays
And the dreams are so real you could cry
And you know the grass is green
On the side youve never seen
And the thought is what helps you get by
I see it all through rose coloured glasses
And I only see what matters to me
I see you all through rose coloured classes, yeah
The road that I chose is coloured rose
As I grow a little more
Wonder what this all is for
And the brass ring is slipping away
I would keep the glasses near
And would shed a quiet tear
And maybe smile inside as I say
I see it all through rose coloured glasses
And I only see what matters to me
I see you all through rose coloured classes, yeah
The road that I chose is coloured...
song performed by by Eric Carmen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dance A Multi-Coloured Dance Of Rainbow
Words can fail like magnets not sticking to the fridge
and we all complain when the rent is due again.
Pay your bills and meet the obligations of
the world, never mind attending to the
payment of your soul.
The new voice is speaking, the new religion
has been announced. We are to celebrate
everything and tradition we are to renounce.
Dance a multi-coloured dance of rainbow
prisms and inter-faith delusions.
We are to ignore the truth of the Gospel
for too many find that it offends. We must
not have complaining and so we must merge
into one blend. Let the fires burn so
brightly as we burn away the words
we do not like. Dance a multi-coloured
dance of rainbow prisms and
inter-faith delusions.
Men should not sleep with women, for
that is not the way the new voices want
it to be. Instead they should seek male
partners and live in illusions of
conformity. We must not call a spade
a spade for in doing so we ignore
the new mindset.
Dance a multi-coloured dance of rainbow
prisms and inter-faith delusions.
No need to wave flags for we must
not cause nationalism to exist. Only
one nation is right and that is the
propaganda we must believe. So we
watch our televsions and rejoice
in the latest American war.
Dance a multi-coloured dance of rainbow
prisms and inter-faith delusions.
The parade has begun, and the marchers
have lined up like soliders in a drill.
The banners are ready ot wave, the
sound of music will soon flood the
streets. We will march for equality
and conform ourselves to a plastic
sheeted state of being. Dance a
multi-coloured dance of rainbow
prisms and inter-faith delusions.
And though the old ways will not die,
we will pretend they do not matter.
We will surrender ourselves to
immoral methods of existing. We
will speak only of politically correct
topics and we shall never disagree.
Dance a multi-coloured dance of rainbow
prisms and inter-faith delusions.
poem by Chris G. Vaillancourt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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MoonStruck
Moments became true seconds
As days moved themselves along
Into clearer skies and rainbows
Emitting a multi-coloured spectrum view
Back-so far back in time
To Washington State and you;
Tonight the sky casts its star beams
Telling reminders of way back then
Of a Galaxy of maybes and why nots
Of why we never did begin?
Its my Moonstruck reverie come calling
Counting the months and the years
Knowing of our deep attraction unrequited
At last closing my eyes to past tears;
* 101238
poem by Theodora Onken
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All Is One? ? ? (A Cold Case Solved)
Collective guilt tallies it's members...
Peruses over their years of past energies
Hops a memory flight back to Seattle
And concludes that their gooses might be cooked! ;
Fear makes them scurry...
Dumping all of the DNA and other evidence in their local landfill;
Covering over the beaten path they all walked...
Disinfecting the newspapers archives
In the needful hope of remaining incognito;
The headmaster still makes all of the calls.
She has her degree in Justice...
Oh so sure all of these years that her
Black robe would keep her lily white;
Unfortunately for her-her name surfaced a long while ago! ! !
Tied in with my April Showers & past Big Birds-
Merry-go-rounds with brass rings & Emily Dickinson;
Recalling: 'Pops beauty queen, perhaps no prude
But words were cutting' and
The proverbial Vic and Marion of yesterday...
When a puppet was a thing on a string-me! ! !
When East coast met West coast.
When umbrella's were recommended before the fact! ! !
Soothe Sayer that she was and is-
Today-tucked insecurely in her condo by the sea
Her plantation shutters nailed tightly
Just in case that dreaded tropical storm finally hits! !
By: Theodora Onken
August 9,2012
poem by Theodora Onken
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Awaiting June~~~
The mourning doves run rife through the Mimosa
While a deluge of California sun beats down
Everywhere is getting acquainted with somewhere
While the bougainvillea leave their fingerprints all around;
Messengers are still a little invisible-
As many a blind eye might attest--
Windows of Springtime sunsets prevail
Surviving the mountains out west;
The in between of the seasons is nearing...
Awaiting in the trails- is the sizzling of June-
Bathing itself in warmth, a bit early, is May
Impatient for that perfect Summer Moon;
So here's to the Seasons of flowers and the shore
The woodlands and mountains so high
Spectators to the greenhouses of seasons & mighty sea
Welcoming all with a most longing sigh;
Two seasons dancing together...
Near to the riverbanks are the Pheasant and Quail
Past experience has truly taught us
That Sun and Blue Sky oft' times prevail;
By: Theodora Onken
May 15,2012
poem by Theodora Onken
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Far And Away
Far and away
In Gaia's dew you hide
Far and away
In ethereal mist you glide
Far and away
Through regions of natures rim
Far and away
Until the western ocean grows dim
Far and away
You travel through villages of yore
Far and away
Deep into the essence core
Far and away
'Til Hermes has lived life to full
Far and away
Distance tries it's magnetic pull...
poem by Theodora Onken
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Everything
Tonight
'Neath a silken moon
Bathed in
Texas starlight
You came to me
Upon a
Whispering breeze
Out of love
Offering only
Everything
Little did
You know
Buried in
My longting heart
That you
And only
You
My darling
Beyond any
Shadow of
Any doubt
Are Everything
To me
Theodora Onken
February 22,2012
Dedicated To: My Husband
poem by Theodora Onken
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To Robert Browning
There is delight in singing, though none hear
Beside the singer; and there is delight
In praising, though the praiser sits alone
And see the praised far off him, far above.
Shakespeare is not our poet, but the world's,
Therefore on him no speech! and brief for thee,
Browning! Since Chaucer was alive and hale
No man hath walked along our roads with step
So active, so inquiring eye, or tongue
So varied in discourse. But warmer climes
Give brighter plumage, stronger wing; the breeze
Of Alpine heights thou playest with, borne on
Beyond Sorrento and Amalfi, where
The Siren waits thee, singing song for song.
poem by Walter Savage Landor
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Suffolk
A luscious land of fertile soil,
Upon which there's been years of toil,
The towns and villages appeal,
With somewhat of an old world feel,
Traditionally brewed vintage ale,
Many a bizarre quaint tale,
Out on the broads all is tranquil,
A place to be with time to kill,
Once home of witches and fairies,
Now where to live a life of ease,
A history rearing horses,
Home of the grand national races,
Brilliantly vibrant blue skies,
Folk with Anglo and Celtic ties,
A coast that glows with golden sands,
History built on the fenlands.
poem by Christian Lacdael
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Reflections
I am a silhouette
In the mirrors of your mind
The scent of a woman
Upon silken sheets sublime;
I come to you in silence
For a season with passion defined
Leaving you with my fragrance
Of once upon a Spring time;
By, Theodora Onken
March 4,2012
Dedicated To: My Husband
poem by Theodora Onken
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Villa Jovial
On my way to the Villa Jovial,
The Summer Mist Christening-
The grass with dew,
Stood a marble pillar standing,
Proud and erect-
Creating an opening to a:
Most breathtaking view...
The waters looked so inviting,
With backdropp of waves
Tidal flows-
Kissed by the Sweet Golden Arrows-
Shot by Match-Maker-Love-God-Eros-
On the way to the Villa Jovial,
Jupiter influences the ebb and flow,
Incantations of Mystical
Themed spells-
Directing the tourists towards the glow...
Ah, the Mediteranean-
As it meets the Aegean for a dance,
On the way to the Villa Jovial-
In the air, one could just feel, The Romance...
The Romance of the vast blue-deep-
Of Oceans connected by time,
Along the road of forever my love-
Together, kissed, by love most divine...
poem by Theodora Onken
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The Century Of Garibaldi
We who have seen Italia in the throes,
Half risen but to be hurled to ground, and now
Like a ripe field of wheat where once drove plough
All bounteous as she is fair, we think of those
Who blew the breath of life into her frame:
Cavour, Mazzini, Garibaldi: Three:
Her Brain, her Soul, her Sword; and set her free
From ruinous discords, with one lustrous aim.
That aim, albeit they were of minds diverse,
Conjoined them, not to strive without surcease;
For them could be no babblement of peace
While lay their country under Slavery's curse.
The set of torn Italia's glorious day
Was ever sunrise in each filial breast.
Of eagle beaks by righteousness unblest
They felt her pulsing body made the prey.
Wherefore they struck, and had to count their dead.
With bitter smile of resolution nerved
To try new issues, holding faith unswerved,
Promise they gathered from the rich blood shed.
In them Italia, visible to us then
As living, rose; for proof that huge brute Force
Has never being from celestial source,
And is the lord of cravens, not of men.
Now breaking up the crust of temporal strife,
Who reads their acts enshrined in History, sees
That Tyrants were the Revolutionaries,
The Rebels men heart-vowed to hallowed life.
Pure as the Archangel's cleaving Darkness thro',
The Sword he sees, the keen unwearied Sword,
A single blade against a circling horde,
And aye for Freedom and the trampled few.
The cry of Liberty from dungeon cell,
From exile, was his God's command to smite,
As for a swim in sea he joined the fight,
With radiant face, full sure that he did well.
Behold a warrior dealing mortal strokes,
Whose nature was a child's: amid his foes
A wary trickster: at the battle's close,
No gentler friend this leopard dashed with fox.
Down the long roll of History will run
The story of these deeds, and speed his race
Beneath defeat more hotly to embrace
The noble cause and trust to another sun.
And lo, that sun is in Italia's skies
This day, by grace of his good sword in part.
It beckons her to keep a warrior heart
For guard of beauty, all too sweet a prize.
Earth gave him: blessed be the Earth that gave.
Earth's Master crowned his honest work on earth:
Proudly Italia names his place of birth:
The bosom of Humanity his grave.
poem by George Meredith
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My Life
My life has grown ever so long
Over the evergreen to red clay and desert sands
From The Pacific and Puget Sound to Pecos River dry
Covering nearly half of God's great land;
Today, i move in smaller circles...
I am in fine company with the Blue Jay and Wren
Touched and kissed by the Butterfly and Bee...
And fragranced by a Pink Rose, now and then;
Smiling all the while in such brillant light
This Texas sun-simply glows...
But never shall i ever forget the gentle rains that fell
That helped Washingtons evergreen to grow;
And when that day has finally come
That i know life for me is all but done...
I will kiss the Dawn-and embrace the Sunset long
Caress the Night-walk into The Light-as the Creator and i become one!
February 10,2012
By, Theodora Onken
poem by Theodora Onken
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