Three Men of Gotham
SEAMEN three! What men be ye?
Gotham's three wise men we be.
Whither in your bowl so free?
To rake the moon from out the sea.
The bowl goes trim. The moon doth shine.
And our ballast is old wine.--
And your ballast is old wine.
Who art thou, so fast adrift?
I am he they call Old Care.
Here on board we will thee lift.
No: I may not enter there.
Wherefore so? 'Tis Jove's decree,
In a bowl Care may not be.--
In a bowl Care may not be.
Fear ye not the waves that roll?
No: in charmed bowl we swim.
What the charm that floats the bowl?
Water may not pass the brim.
The bowl goes trim. The moon doth shine.
And our ballast is old wine.--
And your ballast is old wine.
poem by Thomas Love Peacock
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Related quotes
Seamen Three
Seamen three! What men be ye?
Gotham's three wise men we be.
Whither in your bowl so free?
To rake the moon from out the sea.
The bowl goes trim. The moon doth shine.
And our ballast is old wine;
And your ballast is old wine.
Who art thou, so fast adrift?
I am he they call Old Care.
Here on board we will thee lift.
No: I may not enter there.
Wherefore so? 'Tis Jove's decree,
In a bowl Care may not be;
In a bowl Care may not be.
Fear ye not the waves that roll?
No: in charmed bowl we swim.
What the charm that floats the bowl?
Water may not pass the brim.
The bowl goes trim. The moon doth shine.
And our ballast is old wine;
And your ballast is old wine.
poem by Thomas Love Peacock
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Away The Bowl
Our grateful hearts with temperance burn,
Away, away the bowl,
From dram shops all, our steps we turn,
Away, away the bowl;
Farewell to rum and all its harms,
Farewell the wine-cup's boasted charms,
Away the bowl, away the bowl, away, away the bowl.
See how that staggering drunkard reels!
Away, away the bowl;
Alas, the misery he reveals,
Away, away the bowl;
His children grieve, his wife's in tears!
How sad his once bright home appears!
Away the bowl, away the bowl, away, away the bowl.
We drink no more, nor buy nor sell,
Away, away the bowl!
The grog-shop's offers we repel,
Away, away the bowl.
United in a temperance band,
We 're joined in heart, we 're joined in hand,
Away the bowl, away the bowl, away, away the bowl.
poem by John Pierpont
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The Voice & The Snake
(curly m.c./f.gregorian)
.
The first bowl on the earth
The second bowl on the sea
The third bowl on the rivers
The fourth bowl on the sun
The fifth bowl on the beast
The sixth bowl on the stars
The seventh bowl on the air
.
And the earth turned grey
Sea turned black
The rivers turned red
The sun turned cold
The beast turned pale
The stars turned fast
The air turned to poison
song performed by by Enigma
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Voice The Snake
(curly m.c./f.gregorian)
.
The first bowl on the earth
The second bowl on the sea
The third bowl on the rivers
The fourth bowl on the sun
The fifth bowl on the beast
The sixth bowl on the stars
The seventh bowl on the air
.
And the earth turned grey
Sea turned black
The rivers turned red
The sun turned cold
The beast turned pale
The stars turned fast
The air turned to poison
song performed by by Enigma
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Three Wise Men of Gotham
Three wise men of Gotham,
They went to sea in a bowl,
And if the bowl had been stronger,
My song had been longer.
poem by Anonymous English
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Farewell The Bowl
Farewell to the cup, we have tarried too long,
Where the juice of the grape adds its witch'ry to song.
And the thoughts that flow'd freely are sombre and dull,
Our brains become heavy, farewell to the bowl,
Farewell, farewell, farewell, farewell to the bowl.
Oh, tarry no longer where joy flies away,
The heart and the soul lose their richest array,
Where eye mocketh eye, as unmeaning they roll,
The tongue whispers folly-farewell to the bowl.
Oh, think, if the maiden, who smiles in thine eyes,
Once saw thy proud mind in this shameful disguise;
Her heart would reject thee, how sadly her soul
Would pity and leave thee-oh, flee from the bowl.
Oh think, e'er the moment of thinking is past,
And chains of the mighty upon thee are cast!
Return-ere the iron shall enter thy soul,
And the dregs of thy life-a curse on the bowl.
poem by John Pierpont
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Mystery
Now I am all
One bowl of kisses,
Such as the tall
Slim votaresses
Of Egypt filled
For a God's excesses.
I lift to you
My bowl of kisses,
And through the temple's
Blue recesses
Cry out to you
In wild caresses.
And to my lips'
Bright crimson rim
The passion slips,
And down my slim
White body drips
The shining hymn.
And still before
The altar I
Exult the bowl
Brimful, and cry
To you to stoop
And drink, Most High.
Oh drink me up
That I may be
Within your cup
Like a Mystery,
Like wine that is still
In ecstasy.
Glimmering still
In ecstasy,
Commingled wines
Of you and me
In One fulfill,...
The Mystery.
poem by David Herbert Lawrence
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Nay, Tell Me Not, Dear
Nay, tell me not, dear, that the goblet drowns
One charm of feeling, one fond regret;
Believe me, a few of thy angry frowns
Are all I've sunk in its bright wave yet.
Ne'er hath a beam
Been lost in the stream
That ever was shed from thy form or soul;
The spell of those eyes,
The balm of thy sighs,
Still float on the surface, and hallow by bowl.
Then fancy not, dearest, that wine can steal
One blissful dream of the heart from me;
Like founts that awaken the pilgrim's zeal,
The bowl but brightens my love for thee.
They tell us the Love in his fairy bower
Had two blush-roses, of birth divine;
He sprinkled the one with a rainbow's shower,
But bathed the other with mantling wine.
Soon did the buds
That drunk of the floods
Distill'd by the rainbow decline and fade;
While those which the tide
Of ruby had dyed
All blush'd into beauty, like thee, sweet maid!
Then fancy not, dearest, that wine can steal
One blissful dream of the heart from me;
Like founts that awaken the pilgrim's zeal,
The bowl but brightens my love for thee.
poem by Thomas Moore
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Explorations: XXVI
I stand
At your door-step
With an empty bowl
I can't ask you
Why I'm made
To stand there
I can't ask you
Why my bowl
Is empty;
The bowl
The emptiness
And I
Are all your design
Are your creation!
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Wreath the Bowl
Wreath the bowl
With flowers of soul,
The brightest Wit can find us,
We'll take a flight
Towards heaven to-night,
And leave dull earth behind us.
Should Love amid
The wreaths be hid
That Joy, the enchanter, brings us,
No danger fear,
While wine is near --
We'll drown him if he stings us.
Then, wreath the bowl
With flowers of soul,
The brightest Wit can find us.
We'll take a flight
Towards heaven to-night,
And leave dull earth behind us.
'Twas nectar fed
Of old, 'tis said,
Their Junos, Joves, Apollos,
And man may brew
His nectar too,
The rich receipt's as follows:
Take wine like this,
Let looks of bliss
Around it well be blended,
Then bring Wit's beam
To warm the stream,
And there's your nectar, splendid!
So, wreath the bowl,
With flowers of soul,
The brightest Wit can find us,
We'll take a flight
Towards heaven to-night,
And leave dull earth behind us.
Say, why did Time
His glass sublime
Fill up with sands unsightly,
When wine, he knew,
Runs brisker through,
And sparkles far more brightly?
Oh, lend it us,
And, smiling thus,
The glass in two we'll sever,
Make pleasure glide
In double tide,
And fill both ends for ever!
Then, wreath the bowl
With flowers of soul
The brightest Wit can find us;
We'll take a flight
Towards heaven to-night,
And leave dull earth behind us.
poem by Thomas Moore
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Cameron
Cameron the cat would never miss a trick –
Often in the garden on patrol.
Otherwise sleeping, though frequently meeting
His one and only love – that earthen bowl!
Cameron the cat took everything for granted -
Sure, the street lay under his control.
Contentedly snoozing – perhaps he 'd been boozing –
And toasting all that counts: his dearest bowl!
Cameron the cat would seek to take advantage –
His gullible owners often on parole.
Purring pathetically, and almost poetically,
He'd meow them into stacking up his bowl!
Cameron the cat was nonetheless a gem –
His owners saw him as their heart and soul,
But having to accept that he was so adept
At persuading them to fill his flipping bowl!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat
cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat
cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat
cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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The Two Hermits
Upon a lonely mountain, there lived two hermits who worshipped God
and loved one another.
Now these two hermits had one earthen bowl, and this was their only
possession.
One day an evil spirit entered into the heart of the older hermit
and he came to the younger and said, 'It is long that we have
lived together. The time has come for us to part. Let us divide
our possessions.'
Then the younger hermit was saddened and he said, 'It grieves
me, Brother, that thou shouldst leave me. But if thou must needs
go, so be it,' and he brought the earthen bowl and gave it to him
saying, 'We cannot divide it, Brother, let it be thine.'
Then the older hermit said, 'Charity I will not accept. I will
take nothing but mine own. It must be divided.'
And the younger one said, 'If the bowl be broken, of what use would
it be to thee or to me? If it be thy pleasure let us rather cast
a lot.'
But the older hermit said again, 'I will have but justice and mine
own, and I will not trust justice and mine own to vain chance. The
bowl must be divided.'
Then the younger hermit could reason no further and he said, 'If
it be indeed thy will, and if even so thou wouldst have it let us
now break the bowl.'
But the face of the older hermit grew exceedingly dark, and he
cried, 'O thou cursed coward, thou wouldst not fight.'
poem by Khalil Gibran
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Life is just a bowl
Of cherries, truth is millions
Just have a dust bowl
haiku by Ken e Hall
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I Want A Little Sugar In My Bowl
Nina simone
I want a little sugar
In my bowl
I want a little sweetness
Down in my soul
I could stand some lovin
Oh so bad
Feel so lonely and I feel so sad
I want a little steam
On my clothes
Maybe I could fix things up
So theyll go
Whatsa matter daddy
Come on, save my soul
Drop a little sugar in my bowl
I aint foolin
Drop a little sugar in my bowl
Well I want a little sugar
In my bowl
Well I want a little sweetness
Down in my soul
You been acting strangely
Ive been told
Move me daddy
I want some sugar in my bowl
I want a little steam
On my clothes
Maybe I can fix things up so theyll go
Whatsa matter daddy
Come on save my soul
Drop a little sugar in my bowl
I aint foolin
Drop some sugar- yeah- in my bowl.
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shortie #1
anticipation
a bowl unflushed
there is no
more blood
kahinam
Wa pa maflush ang
Bowl
Wala nay dugo
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Fish In The Fishbowl...
i see fish in a bowl
the size of the fish is just
enough for the bowl
and water is half-full
the fish swims freely and
breathes
air and lets it pass through
its lungs and three bubbles
rise up
and then disappears
at the surface
outside the house it is raining
heavily
the news of the river overflowing
the banks
is flashed on tv
warnings are given by the government
evacuation is eminent
carry only those which are necessary
foremost
save lives of the children and
the old sector
we are ready
we are not taking this fish bowl
the fish can take of itself
when we left
the fish flips its fins and breathes faster
releasing more bubbles on the surface of the water
it is the only creature i think
that is happy.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Nonsense Poem - a Villanelle
A little mouse sings in a bowl
A little fish runs on a wheel
A little worm hops in a hole
A little hat has lost its sole
A little petal has no peel
A little mouse sings in a bowl
A little dog dances a reel
A little frog jumps on a mole
A little fish runs on a wheel
A little boat rings out a peal
A little bell loses its keel
A little mouse sings in a bowl
A little rock slips on a seal
A little perch walks on a pole
A little fish runs on a wheel
A little card shakes on a deal
A little sigh fancies a meal
A little mouse sings in a bowl
A little fish runs on a wheel
poem by Alison Cassidy
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The Bowl...
yes, this is a case
of a candle burning itself
on both sides
and below it
on two heads of fire
is a bowl full of
water
shaping what could
be the
truth
when the final shape
is taken
as usual
we go back
to that empty bowl
but less
the candle
the melted one
shedding off
lights
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Only The Bowl!
i am only the bowl!
i am not the rice.
i am not the fire.
i am not the rain,
nor the sun that gave.
i am not the fertile earth.
i am not the human hands
that gathered, that prepared...
i am not even the hand that offers.
i am not the table, not the chair,
i am not the spoon.
when day is done,
and my place is known...
i am only the bowl!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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ET Came To Breakfast (Fun Poem 10)
My breakfast was going snap, crackle and pop,
when suddenly in the chair opposite something went plop.
I looked across the table and was astonished to see,
a little green man looking at me.
I blinked a couple of times,
even pinched myself to make sure it was real.
He was, you can believe,
and my breakfast he was trying to steal.
We pulled at the bowl,
no one getting the upper hand,
and then he stuck his finger in the bowl,
and sucked out the blinking lot,
milk and my snap, crackle and pop.
The moral of this story.
If a little green man comes to breakfast,
Get an extra bowl.
28 April 2007
poem by David Harris
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