Related quotes: Youth is all valiant. He...

A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet XXVI

Youth is all valiant. He and I together,
Conscious of strength, and unreproved of wrong,
Strained at the world's conventions as a tether
Too weak to bind us, and burst forth in song.
The backs of fools we scourged as with a thong,
And falsehood stripped to its last borrowed feather,
And vowed to fact what things to fact belong,
And of the rest asked neither why nor whether.
Gravely we triumphed in that Gorgon time,
Unsexed for us at length thro' lack of faith,
Our barren mistress, from whose womb sublime
No beauty more should spring, but only death.
Like birds we sang by some volcanic brink,
Leaning on ugliness, and did not shrink.

poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Mirage

So boldly though stand there on the precipice;
No shade no wind
Barren they say.

Lack they those looks which beauty see.
Thou conscience I can see
Your garments stripped by atmosphere you see
Mans lust laid your skeleton bare.

Fools look inside the womb;
Its arms hug the mother tight
Which gives you the life
On which you tread, He embraces that.
Proudly he stands there head high.

The ethic more noble than it's height.
Cultivate those looks which beauty see
Insane things may teach you more.

poem by Sanjay Mehta
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Blues In Minor Key

'Twas a lovely night in gay Paree
The stagelight was beating on him and me
He took my heart and spoke so well
And told me things no one else could tell
But far away in a barren tree
The birds sang the blues in a minor key

He was a lonely tramp in the world of rhyme
With words that caught me just in time
I gave him my body I gave him my soul
In front of the stage I played my role
But far away in a barren tree
The birds sang the blues in a minor key

The chimes of freedom rang that night
And stars in heaven were shining bright
The songs he sang were like ice and fire
Leading me through the bush and brier
But far away in a barren tree
The birds sang the blues in a minor key

Behind his mask and behind his name
He left the stage with nothin' to claim
Like a shooting star in the empty skies
Our love was done without any ties
And far away in a barren tree
The birds sang the blues in a minor key

And far away in a barren tree
The birds sang the blues in a minor key....

poem by Göran Gustafsson
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If I Were King

If I were king, my pipe should be premier.
The skies of time and chance are seldom clear,
We would inform them all with bland blue weather.
Delight alone would need to shed a tear,
For dream and deed should war no more together.

Art should aspire, yet ugliness be dear;
Beauty, the shaft, should speed with wit for feather;
And love, sweet love, should never fall to sere,
If I were king.

But politics should find no harbour near;
The Philistine should fear to slip his tether;
Tobacco should be duty free, and beer;
In fact, in room of this, the age of leather,
An age of gold all radiant should appear,
If I were king.

poem by William Ernest Henley
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Chanson Un Peu Naïve

What body can be ploughed,
Sown, and broken yearly?
But she would not die, she vowed,
But she has, nearly.
Sing, heart sing;
Call and carol clearly.

And, since she could not die,
Care would be a feather,
A film over the eye
Of two that lie together.
Fly, song, fly,
Break your little tether.

So from strength concealed
She makes her pretty boast:
Plain is a furrow healed
And she may love you most.
Cry, song, cry,
And hear your crying lost.

poem by Louise Bogan
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Song: On Borrowed Time

We're all living on borrowed time,
Near the brooding sea and brine.
And we grow our primate's spine,
In every clime.

Since we crawled out from 'neath the grime,
And evolved to a species – prime.
We've been living on borrowed time,
On borrowed time.

On borrowed time. We feed and dine.
On borrowed time. In swill like swine.
On borrowed time. We sup our wine.
On borrowed time. On borrowed time!

On borrowed time. In slow decline.
On borrowed time. No season shines.
On borrowed time. No reason rhymes.
On borrowed time. On borrowed time!

We're all living on borrowed time,
Acting out our roles in mime,
As if you cannot tell that I'm confused.
We're all living on borrowed time,
And we're captured hook and line.
Enraptured lives entwine as minds unloose.

On borrowed time, by frantic chime,
Of doomsday clocks and scam sub-prime.
On borrowed time, we count the dime.
On borrowed time. On borrowed time!

From that day of Eve's droll crime,
When dull Adam su*ked the lime,
We've been living on borrowed time,
On borrowed time.

On borrowed time. By dread defined.
On borrowed time. Knee-deep in slime.
On borrowed time. We moan and whine.
On borrowed time. On borrowed time!

On borrowed time. To heights sublime.
On borrowed time. Statistics climb.
On borrowed time. Who reads the signs?
On borrowed time. On borrowed time!

poem by David SmithWhite
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The honest liar

1. I have to tell you that
In the last conversation we had
All I told you were lies
And with all honesty now
I am telling you
That I am a liar.

2. When you asked me
Whether I am dying
I told you I am not
But I have only
A month to live
That is the truth
But look
I am not responsible for you
I am the one
That is dying here.
It is not you.

3. When we speak
I do not demand that
You tell me the truth
We are talking
Because we are here
What you say to me
Is none of my business
To require that you tell
Me the truth
Is in fact, an overburden
Our agreement is
Simple enough
That we just talk
It is nothing more
But a contract of presence
a conversation.

4. In fact what you say
Is the bonus
And it does not matter
Truth or falsehood
We just talk
For a while
While I am here
I am going somewhere
I am leaving
You will be left
And you still have
All the time to contrive
The choice is yours
I have none anymore

5. so that is it
Keep on talking
As I pretend I am listening
I keep on talking too
But my mind
Forgive me
Is somewhere else
You may not understand
It at first
But you will soon
Understand
This world is not simply meant
For one, for one like me.
Or for us.

6. at this stage
Truth and falsehood
Are irrelevant,
Out there
Is beyond truth and falsehood
It is our place.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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You Asked For This

You asked for this.
And every bit of what I have,
Is yours from me to be given.
You asked for this!
Oh yes,
You did.

We agreed to always between us,
Have honesty.
And my being honest,
You now wish...
I wouldn't easily be as free,
To share this honesty we agreed.
You asked for this!
Oh yes,
You did.

And now you murmur,
Between clinched teeth and twisted lips...
Your hips belong in a thong bathing suit.
And I say the wearing of that thong is wrong.
You just don't look good at all in it.
And if I suggested,
Your hips and chest block out the Sunset...
You declare me insensitive.
When it is only honesty from me to you I give.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Fact Is, In The World Of Lies, Life Is Fair

accept the fact that sometimes we say things
that we do not mean, that sometimes we burst in anger
and we hurt and then we apologize that we do not really mean to hurt

sometimes we show feelings too that we do not really want to express.
sometime we say 'i love you' and yet we are just compelled to do so

someone is dying and he needs you badly at the end of her day.
sometimes, accept the fact, that time strains us and we become

the liars, the hypocrites, the fraud, and the swindler.
and most of all, we keep it for a time, making some stares straight in the eye.

accept this fact, we are humans and in some harsh times
we decide, to survive, at all costs, no matter what.

now, we shall talk, and you shall listen and i shall write about the truth
of this fact. we are us conjoined twins in the art of deception.

lie to me as i lie to you and then we accept this fact: life is fair.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My Strenght

Bear faith and strength will come
Seek it and strength will come
Sing, Sing
It’s with strength you belong

I listened as an angel sang her song

Take heed now
My weakness has been your strength
But no more!
For sure!

Take heed now
My kindness you abused at length
But no more!
For sure!

Take heed now
I stopped believing in me
Topped up with your deceiving
I flopped thinking
I was not worthy of receiving
But no more!
For sure!

Behold a stranger came and walked my way
Bringing along her golden sunrays

I found my strength at long last
I found my strength at long last within me
I found my strength at long last to be free
I found my strength at long last, you see!
You are now a thing of the past
‘You, ’ I sing. ‘Are merely an outcast’

poem by Sylvia Chidi
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For A Friend

(released as b-side of we wait and we wonder cd single, 1994)
When I saw him last
He had that look in his eyes
I said, do you need to talk?
He said, no.
So I called him up, asked him again and I waited a while -
He began to speak, then he started to cry
You know some things are best left unspoken
And some things just never work out
And sometimes, seems you try and you try and whatever you do
Theres a fix that youre in, and you just cant get out
He said, i need your help, I need it now
Give me the strength to go on
Though I didnt know what
I knew that something was wrong
But he still had his pride
Hed tell me in time
Well this feeling inside
Kept eating at me
I was losing a friend, and I had to know why
When I heard the voice on the phone, I knew it was bad news
So I rushed to be by his side
And we said goodbye for the last time
I gently hugged him, and kissed him goodbye
He whispered, i need your help, I need it now
Give me the strength to go on.
We were always laughing
I just remember laughing, mama
We were always laughing
Oh I need your help, I need it now
Give me the strength to go on
Though as time goes by, and it all becomes clear
We can see the deceit, we see the lies
So I asked myself, over and over, and over again
What did they know? what did they hide?
Fools, leading the innocent blindly
Fools, turning away
And I know that
When I think of my friend with that look in his eyes
And if they told the truth, he might be here today
I need your help, I need it now
Just give me the strength to go on, on
I remember the laughing
We were always laughing
Oh no - its just strength we need now
Just the strength to go on...

song performed by by Phil Collins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet 11

Apart sweet women (for whom Heaven be blessed),
Comrades, you cannot think how thin and blue
Look the leftovers of mankind that rest,
Now that the cream has been skimmed off in you.
War has its horrors, but has this of good --
That its sure processes sort out and bind
Brave hearts in one intrepid brotherhood
And leave the shams and imbeciles behind.
Now turn we joyful to the great attacks,
Not only that we face in a fair field
Our valiant foe and all his deadly tools,
But also that we turn disdainful backs
On that poor world we scorn yet die to shield --
That world of cowards, hypocrites, and fools.

poem by Alan Seeger
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No More Looking Back

Walking along a crowded street
I see thousands of faces before me.
Then I see a face that I used to know
Long ago in my life story.
It starts me thinking about the things you said
For your image is still inside me.
The past is gone but in my head
Youre still walking along beside me.
Is it something playing tricks with my eyes
Or just an illusion deceiving me,
Or is it someone in a disguise
Or visions of things that used to be?
But lately Ive been going to
All the places that we once knew,
And just when I think that I am free of you
I keep seeing the things that remind me of you,
And just when I think youre out of my head
I hear a song that you sang or see a book that you read.
Then youre in every bar, youre in every caf,
Youre driving every car, I see you everyday,
But youre not really there cos you belong to yesterday.
No more looking back,
No more living in the past,
Yesterdays gone and thats a fact,
Now theres no more looking back.
Got to be hard,
Yeah, look straight ahead.
That s the only way its going to be,
Yesterdays gone and thats a fact,
Now theres no more looking back,
Perhaps someday Ill stop needing you,
Then maybe one day Ill be free of you.
But lately Ive been going to
All the places that remind me of you.
And just when I think youre out of my head
I hear a record you played or see a book that you read.
Then youre in every bar, youre in every caf,
Youre driving every car, I see you everyday
But youre not really there cos you belong to yesterday.
No more looking back,
No more living in the past.
Yesterdays gone, thats a fact,
Now theres no more looking back.
No more looking back.
No more living in the past.
Yesterdays gone, thats a fact.
Now theres no more looking back.

song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In search of beauty

Why is it so?
That beauty is an unfathomable mistress?
…like the uncertain truth…
Of a certain paradox…

The beauty of joy,
Is in its irony.
The beauty of smile,
In its tear.

The beauty of desire
Is in its incompletion.
The beauty of a poem,
In its vain-ness.

That of emotion,
In its numbness…
That of sorrow,
In its convalescence.

The beauty of past,
is in its eternity,
and that of future,
in its anonymity.

The beauty of beauty
Is in its ugliness…
That of life,
…in its death…

The beauty of
The search of it,
Is in its endlessness….

poem by Sarvesh Kulkarni
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A Duty Done - 1933

A duty done ... What else was there to do?
A simple matter; and as simply solved.
His straight young mind worked straightly - worked as true
As ever youth's clean mind. Here no involved
And weighty pondering of faith or fact.
Duty demanded; and he leapt to act.

He leapt and died . . . Could he but tell it now,
There would, be sure, come no heroic tale.
'What else would any man do, any how?'
This thing cried to be done. How could he fail?
The cry; the danger; Duty's sudden call;
Then - well, a bit of bad luck. That was all.

They say that youth grows cynical: too prone
To weigh advantage; thro' some modern plan
Changed from the clear-eyed youth old days had known:
More of a crafty huckster, less a man.
They say - and they are answered by one youth,
Proving again one wholesome human truth.

A duty done; and valiantly done.
Tho' death came in the doing, yet, who knows
At what wise ordering? No living one
May say how kind death be to such as those
Youth, unjustified, triumphing on his way,
Quiet hero of this world of work-a-day.

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Borrowed

borrowed shirts, borrowed shoes,
borrowed books, borrowed thoughts,
borrowed bed, borrowed lover,
borrowed dreams, borrowed salt.

borrowed children, borrowed mothers,
borrowed study, borrowed lives.
borrowed God, borrowed heaven,
borrowed killers with borrowed knives.

borrowed flags, borrowed lies,
borrowed virtue, borrowed freedom.
borrowed bombs, borrowed bullets,
borrowed puppets, borrowed kingdoms.

borrowed soup bowls, borrowed numbers,
borrowed tents, borrowed bridge.
borrowed hope, borrowed survival,
borrowed till it's sacrilige!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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Odessa - My Principessa

About many famous cities we can talk:
London, Paris, Naples or New York,
But when you walk along Odessa
You will love our principessa
If you are wise enough and not a bore.

The fact is such,
The fact is such:
There's no city in the world
I love so much.

You will smile to the famous Duke,
From the second hatch at him you'll look
And if he gives you the welcoming hand
You will have to understand

That Odessa is the smile of God.
The fact is such,
The fact is such:
There's no city in the world
I love so much.

The girls in our city are the pearls,
God gave them sense of humor and a charm.
You come here and you will see
The beauty of the bluest sea
And you will be surprised but not alarmed.

The fact is such,
The fact is such:
There's no city in the world
I love so much.

And Sasha Pushkin was an odessite,
As here he recalled a wonderous moment
He cursed and praised our and his Odessa
Because he really loved principessa,
Which was and is and always bright.

The fact is such,
The fact is such:
There's no city in the world
I love so much.

You can go any place you like
To New York, Paris or even London,
All of them are really so nice,
But in Odessa you'll be certainly surprised
By the smell of sea, acacia, cherry, linden...

The fact is such,
The fact is such:
There's no city in the world
I love so much.

poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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The Poet's Song

I HID in the world and sang,
And I sang so loud and long
That all the ages rang
With the music of my song.
I sang of the earth and sky,
5
I sang of the whispering seas,
I sang of the mountains high,
And I sang of the flowers and trees;
I sang of the early spring,
I sang of the dawning day,
10
I sang, for I had to sing
As the young lambs have to play;
Till heaven and earth were ringing,
And all the people heard,
And they said, "We love his singing,
15
For his song is the song of the bird."

poem by Frederick George Scott
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I woke up to a lullaby

I woke up to a lullaby
The birds sang a song for me
They sang their hearts out all the while
Dancing on the maple tree

Each bird sang a different song
That melted into one
A song full of promises
For the day that’s just begun

They sang of sorrow
Of happiness and mirth
The sang of marriage
And of birth

They sang of people laughing
And of them crying
They sang of sickness
They sang of dying

This little song
They sang for me
Made me think
Made me free

poem by Sami Girl
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Gold And Silver

Gold and silver has always been sought.
But to some it's just a thought.
They don't think of it
and they don't know
how it shines and how it does glow.

The jewelry they wear turns their skin green.
Then they scrub it to make it come clean.
And what does this say about the fairness of things?
Some with nothing and some with gold rings.

It says there's division between rich and poor.
It says the rich have made a detour
to avoid facing the fact that it's wrong.
And it says to the poor, 'You don't belong.'

Gold and silver, you belong to the earth
but they've stripped you of it for its worth.
When we finally learn the lessons we need
we'll put back your metals so you won't bleed.

poem by Edwina Reizer
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