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Proposed Marriage

What weary loneliness
When I'm swimming alone
In such dreadful weather at dawn.

When I saw you last,
We were sweltering
In unrelenting summer
And the sweat was dripping
Like tears from your brow.

But now, I wish I could walk with you
Along the same paths
Under any conditions,
snowstorms or parched earth.

Yesterday, I saw a woman who looked like you,
But Loud and drunk, at the races;
If I hadn't been so painfully sober,
I might have kissed her
Or proposed marriage.

I'm going to crawl into the corner
Of an old dusty bookstore
And read The Illuminations of Rimbaud
Or maybe A Season in Hell.

Try to remember something fond of me;
I've always been so terribly fond of you.

poem by Uriah Hamilton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Am Fond Of You

He often said,
“You are not fond of me.
I responded,
“It is just a dawn my Love!
Confession is yet to be expressed,
Whatever I wish to say,
I shall not speak it yet,
I conceal from myself a lot,
I defer the emotions,
If they appear on the tongue.”

“Listen, My Love!
Stop for a while for it is my turn,
I am fond of you that is why
I become annoyed on every trifle,
And all of sudden become shattered,
Like a piece of mirror;
And if you delay in coming back,
Thousands of suppositions
Torment my fond heart,
This or that may not happen.
Peek into my eyes, My Love!
How much love for you I have in my store,
For I am fond of you.”

poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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No jealousy their dawn of love overcast, nor blasted were their wedded days with strife; each season looked delightful as it past, to the fond husband and the faithful wife.

quote by James Beattie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gartloney Rats

The boys from the village were festering sore
For a day on the rant with some music and more
Theyd drink porter in mauras way over in fore
And never get drunk but stay sober
There was harry the banjo and dunne of the swan
With whose bone from the wing hed beat the bodhran
And the song that hed sing was of ganders and all
Hed never get drunk but stay sober
There was woods on the guitar and auld squeeze box too
Who came from a time before aeroplanes flew
Hed sit in a corner and mule quite a few
And hed never get drunk but stay sober
There was mahon the singer who knew all the songs
And never was known to put a foot wrong
Hed sing through the night till the break o the morn
And hed never get drunk but stay sober
Then harry the banjo now there was a man
A bottomless pit if ever there was one
More porter hed lower that there was in the land
And hed never get drunk but stay sober
Well the gartloney rats would play away
Theyd play for the pints and not for the pay
And the pints theyd go down in the usual way
And theyd never get drunk but stay sober

song performed by by Pogues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Little Church Round the Corner

'Bring him not here, where our sainted feet
Are treading the path to glory;
Bring him not here, where our Saviour sweet
Repeats for
us
his story.
Go, take him where such things are done
(For he sat in the seat of the scorner),
To where they have room, for we have none,--
To the little church down the corner.'

So spake the holy man of God,
Of another man, his brother,
Whose cold remains, ere they sought the sod,
Had only asked that a Christian rite
Might be read above them by one whose light
Was, 'Brethren, love one another:'
Had only asked that a prayer be read
Ere his flesh went down to join the dead,
While his spirit looked with suppliant eyes,
Searching for God throughout the skies.
But the priest frowned 'No,' and his brow was bare
Of love in the sight of the mourner,
And they looked for Christ and found him--where?
In that little church round the corner.

Ah! well, God grant when, with aching feet,
We tread life's last few paces,
That we may hear some accents sweet,
And kiss, to the end, fond faces.
God grant that this tired flesh may rest
('Mid many a musing mourner),
While the sermon is preached and the rites are read
In no church where the heart of love is dead,
And the pastor's a pious prig at best,
But in some small nook where God's confessed,--
Some little church round the corner.

poem by Anonymous Americas
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Summer time to have fun

Summer is the fun time when get go swimming
Summer when I was born and took care of
Summer when July 4 comes around
every year
Summer is when you can lay out in sun
Summer is best time at night see
stars out
Summer when all families and friends
go to park with their kids
Summer is good time take animals
for a walk
Summer is good time of the season
plant flowers and stuff
Summer when I meet good friends online
that lives another state then we do
Summer is when I meet good guy to
talk to about anything I want and he lists
to me
Summer is when my birthday comes around
Summer when my mom birthday comes around
Summer is day I went swimming with my best friend
this year
Summer is when Amber birthday is
Summer is time of the year have cook out with friends
and your family.
Summer is good time year to have good time and swimming
and party and just have fun with everyone

poem by Kristina Riggs
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A poem salvaged from the bin…

That morning when the sun
Was in hurry to show his fury
I settled down on the sofa
My weary brow dripping
The humid weather outside
I had the bin emptied before me
And a crumpled piece of paper
Caught my blinking vision

“The tree reveals of the root-rot
Only when the leaves begin to fade
And the branches stand ready to fall
But still there come a bird or two
For a brief rest…

I give the roots all that I can to nourish
Unaware and unguarded…”

My eyes declined to go further
My sweat
My tears
Felt alike on my cheek…

The empty bin gawked

10sep2010
13.20hrs

poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Walk Tall

Cant wait to see you say black is white
Cant wait to hear you
Tell me lies
Say it with flowers
But Id swallow too much pride
Stop counting the hours
till Im right there by your side
Walk tall
Ill never crawl to you
Walk tall
Not if you beg me to
Wishing and hoping
To see the light
Waiting and praying
It will be all right
Remember the days we spent
Just lying on your bed
Remember how crazy we went
Right out of our heads
Walk tall
Ill never crawl to you
Walk tall
Not if you beg me to
Walk tall
Ill never crawl to you
Walk tall
Not if you beg me to
Walk tall
Ill never crawl to you
Walk tall
Not if you beg me to

song performed by by Omd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Where Do I Go From Here?

No explanations,
No reasons,
No goodbyes.
You walk away
Closing doors after door.
Punishing me
for “loving”,
When they say
Its “hate” that is bad,
Leaving me here
Once,
Not once bothering
What if today of pain
I
Shatter or die?

I cry my silent tears
My soul wailing,
And
writhing in despair
I cry.
You were just a dream
But love
It was real.
Wish could read you clear
The clutter was too loud,
The fog too dense,
Distances too wide.

O how my heart rocks
With my sobs
You will never hear
Blindly
I followed you.
Pray,
Where do I go from here?
Lately,
my paths converged
on you,
My life sap
were you.
Where do I go from here?
To hell or heaven,
Either ways
I die
Writhing in unbearable pain
For you never said
goodbye.
So much so for loving you
A thousand deaths
Now I die.
O tell me beloved.
Where do I go from here?
Cause
Homeless,
Pathless,
Painfully
I shall die.
Without you
O beloved, silently
I will die.
-anjali

poem by Anjali Kakati
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I can walk into a bookstore and hand over my credit card and they don't know who the hell I am. Maybe that says something about bookstore clerks.

quote by E.L. Doctorow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Paths Of Victory

Trails of troubles,
Roads of battles,
Paths of victory,
I shall walk.
The trail is dusty
And my road it might be rough,
But the better roads are waiting
And boys it aint far off.
Trails of troubles,
Roads of battles,
Paths of victory,
We shall walk.
I walked down by the river,
I turned my head up high.
I saw that silver linin
That was hangin in the sky.
Trails of troubles,
Roads of battles,
Paths of victory,
We shall walk.
The evenin dusk was rollin,
I was walking down the track.
There was a one-way wind a-blowin
And it was blowin at my back.
Trails of troubles,
Roads of battles,
Paths of victory,
We shall walk.
The gravel road is bumpy,
Its a hard road to ride,
But theres a clearer road a-waitin
With the cinders on the side.
Trails of troubles,
Roads of battles,
Paths of victory,
We shall walk.
That evening train was rollin,
The hummin of its wheels,
My eyes they saw a better day
As I looked across the fields.
Trails of troubles,
Roads of battles,
Paths of victory,
We shall walk.
The trail is dusty,
The road it might be rough,
But the good road is a-waitin
And boys it aint far off.
Trails of troubles,
Roads of battles,
Paths of victory,
We shall walk.

song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fond of lawsuits, little wealth; fond of doctors, little health; fond of friars, little honour.

Spanish proverbs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In The Vaulted Way

In the vaulted way, where the passage turned
To the shadowy corner that none could see,
You paused for our parting, - plaintively:
Though overnight had come words that burned
My fond frail happiness out of me.

And then I kissed you, - despite my thought
That our spell must end when reflection came
On what you had deemed me, whose one long aim
Had been to serve you; that what I sought
Lay not in a heart that could breathe such blame.

But yet I kissed you: whereon you again
As of old kissed me. Why, why was it so?
Do you cleave to me after that light-tongued blow?
If you scorned me at eventide, how love then?
The thing is dark, Dear. I do not know.

poem by Thomas Hardy
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Summertime

I recall the summers of yesterday
The thought of them somehow won't go away
The laughter, the play, and the sunny days
The people, the places, all the joy too
I recall the moments and I remember you
Better days, I pray should come
Yet the days before was a lot of fun
I still smile about summers of yesterday
May those fond memories linger forever
In a variety of ways
I love those summer days

poem by Angel A. Lockwood
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Fond Farewell

The litebrite's now black and white
Cause you took apart a picture that wasn't right
Pitch burning on a shining sheet
The only maker that you'd want to meet
The dying man in a living room
Who's shadow paces the floor
Who'll take you out in the open door
This is not my life
It's just a fond farewell to a friend
It's not what I'm like
It's just a fond farewell to a friend
Who couldn't get things right
Fond farewell to a friend
He said really I just wanna dance
Good and evil matched perfect it's a great romance
I can deal with some psychic pain
If it'll slow down my higher brain
Veins full of disappearing ink
Vomiting in the kitchen sink
Disconnecting from the missing link
This is not my life
It's just a fond farewell to a friend
It's not what I'm like
It's just a fond farewell to a friend
Who couldn't get things right
Fond farewell to a friend
I see you're leaving me and taking up with the enemy
The cold comfort of the in between
A little less than a human being
A little less than a happy high
A little less than a suicide
The only things that you really tried
This is not my life
It's just a fond farewell to a friend
It's not what I'm like
It's just a fond farewell to a friend
Who couldn't get things right
Fond farewell to a friend
This is not my life
It's just a fond farewell to a friend

song performed by by Elliott Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Fond Farewell

the litebrite's now black and white
cause you took apart a picture that wasn't right
pitch burning on a shining sheet
the only maker that you want to meet
a dying man in a living room
who's shadow paces the floor
who'll take you out in the open door
this is not my life
it's just a fond farewell to a friend
it's not what i'm like
it's just a fond farewell to a friend
who couldn't get things right
fond farewell to a friend
he said really i just wanna dance
good and evil matched perfect it's a great romance
i can deal with some physic pain
if it'll slow down my higher brain
veins full of disappearing ink
vomiting in the kitchen sink
disconnecting from the missing link
this is not my life
it's just a fond farewell to a friend
it's not what i'm like
it's just a fond farewell to a friend
who couldn't get things right
fond farewell to a friend
i see you're leaving me and taking up with the enemy
the cold comfort of the in between
a little less than a human being
a little less than a happy high
a little less than a suicide
the only things that you really tried
this is not my life
it's just a fond farewell to a friend
it's not what i'm like
it's just a fond farewell to a friend
who couldn't get things right
fond farewell to a friend
this is not my life
it's just a fond farewell to a friend

song performed by by Elliott Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Meet At Dawn and Kiss

The Loneliness is unrelenting
Like the endless stretch of highway
Leading to the city
Where you reside.

I drive weary hour
After weary hour,
The road signs blur,
Lost in the rain showers
Of my unhappy eyes.

I don’t know when
I’ll hold your hand
In a flowery field.

Currently, I’m climbing
Mountains of despair;
But one day,
We’ll meet at dawn and kiss.

poem by Uriah Hamilton
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Dream

Dreams and drums go together

They reverberate in the sounds of water

I am fond of A frica which is loud with drum

I am fond of Africa where rattle snakes sing

Hush the charm of Voodoo is in action

poem by Dr. Ramesh Chandra Mukhopadhyaya
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The Weather Man

Winter, spring, summer or fall
It’s the Weather Man’s call.

Common complaints:
“This weather is so depressing”
“I’m sick of all of this rain”
“It’s so gloomy outside today”

Consider God’s conversation with Job:
Did you lay the foundation of the earth?
Have you ever commanded the morning
And caused the dawn to take its place?
Have you ever entered the storehouse of snow,
Or seen the storehouses of the hail?
Can you lead a constellation in its season?
Do you know the ordinance of the stars?
Can you speak to the clouds, and can you send forth lightning?
You, the fault finder, can you contend with God?
Do you condemn God, so that you may be justified?
Winter, spring, summer or fall
It is The Weather Man’s call!

poem by Mary Carter
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You have to be very fond of men. Very, very fond. You have to be very fond of them to love them. Otherwise they're simply unbearable.

quote by Marguerite Duras
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At the Altar

Now to take away your life –
Devour your soul afresh upon
The birth of every dawning day
– The spawn of sun and earth –
As of the way Prometheus lost hepatic flesh –
He stole fire! You stole gropes
And f*cks of me; so suffer thee!

Oh yes, perspire! Drizzle down the beads
Upon that crimson, blotchy skin –
I see the once cocksure pose, my man,
Is wearing terribly thin.

Indeed, an absence of repose
Discloses thumping in your chest –
Irregularly rhythmic – like the humping
(When you thought I was a body to molest) .

No more! my little man, for I shall wrest
The living essence from your
Paling, quivering form! –

You’ve had your gentle calm
Before the rumblings of the storm!

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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