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News For The Delphic Oracle

THERE all the golden codgers lay,
There the silver dew,
And the great water sighed for love,
And the wind sighed too.
Man-picker Niamh leant and sighed
By Oisin on the grass;
There sighed amid his choir of love
Tall pythagoras.
plotinus came and looked about,
The salt-flakes on his breast,
And having stretched and yawned awhile
Lay sighing like the rest.
Straddling each a dolphin's back
And steadied by a fin,
Those Innocents re-live their death,
Their wounds open again.
The ecstatic waters laugh because
Their cries are sweet and strange,
Through their ancestral patterns dance,
And the brute dolphins plunge
Until, in some cliff-sheltered bay
Where wades the choir of love
Proffering its sacred laurel crowns,
They pitch their burdens off.

poem by William Butler Yeats
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Related quotes

The Delphic Oracle Upon Plotinus

Behold that great Plotinus swim,
Buffeted by such seas;
Bland Rhadamanthus beckons him,
But the Golden Race looks dim,
Salt blood blocks his eyes.
Scattered on the level grass
Or winding through the grove
plato there and Minos pass,
There stately Pythagoras
And all the choir of Love.

poem by William Butler Yeats
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Merryman and His Maid

[HE] I have a song to sing, O!
[SHE] Sing me your song, O!
[HE] It is sung to the moon
By a love-lorn loon,
Who fled from the mocking throng, O!
It's the song of a merryman, moping mum,
Whose soul was sad, whose glance was glum,
Who sipped no sup, and who craved no crumb,
As he sighed for the love of a ladye.
Heighdy! heighdy!
Misery me - lackadaydee!
He sipped no sup, and he craved no crumb,
As he sighed for the love of a ladye!

[SHE] I have a song to sing, O!
[HE] Sing me your song, O!
[SHE] It is sung with the ring
Of the song maids sing
Who love with a love life-long, O!
It's the song of a merrymaid, peerly proud,
Who loved a lord, and who laughed aloud
At the moan of the merryman, moping mum,
Whose soul was sore, whose glance was glum,
Who sipped no sup, and who craved no crumb,
As he sighed for the love of a ladye!
Heighdy! heighdy!
Misery me - lackadaydee!
He sipped no sup, and he craved no crumb,
As he sighed for the love of a ladye!

[HE] I have a song to sing, O!
[SHE] Sing me your song, O!
[HE] It is sung to the knell
Of a churchyard bell,
And a doleful dirge, ding dong, O!
It's a song of a popinjay, bravely born,
Who turned up his noble nose with scorn
At the humble merrymaid, peerly proud,
Who loved that lord, and who laughed aloud
At the moan of the merryman, moping mum,
Whose soul was sad, whose glance was glum,
Who sipped no sup, and who craved no crumb,
As he sighed for the love of a ladye!
Heighdy! heighdy!
Misery me - lackadaydee!
He sipped no sup, and he craved no crumb,
As he sighed for the love of a ladye!

[SHE] I have a song to sing, O!
[HE] Sing me your song, O!
[SHE] It is sung with a sigh
And a tear in the eye,
For it tells of a righted wrong, O!
It's a song of a merrymaid, once so gay,
Who turned on her heel and tripped away
From the peacock popinjay, bravely born,
Who turned up his noble nose with scorn
At the humble heart that he did not prize;
And it tells how she begged, with downcast eyes,
For the love of a merryman, moping mum,
Whose soul was sad, whose glance was glum,
Who sipped no sup, and who craved no crumb,
As he sighed for the love of a ladye!
[BOTH] Heighdy! heighdy!
Misery me - lackadaydee!
His pains were o'er, and he sighed no more.
For he lived in the love of a ladye!

poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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Today early morning

Today in the morning as I entered the lift
I happened to look in the mirror my movement so swift
It seemed as something caught my eye
Yes, it's my reflection I saw it and sighed
When I sighed I saw my reflection sighing too
Is it a message I thought and heavier my heart grew
What have I done where is my smile
That is my power which helped me to wade miles
Is it because i am responsible wife, a mother
And daughter who cares for parents sister and brother
But how does it matter, I love them a lot
But that someone in the mirror about whom I never thought
Yes, it's me -my soul my being
Forgotten completely though it's someone I should be seeing
For I can make difference, win hearts and souls
Only when I myself am happy and that should be my goal
So today I am making a promise to my every cell
I will never forget that I need to love myself
For he has made only one of each kind
It feels good to know someone Like me is hard to find

Rima Sharda.

poem by Rima Sharda
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On His Baldness

At dawn I sighed to see my hairs fall;
At dusk I sighed to see my hairs fall.
For I dreaded the time when the last lock should go...
They are all gone and I do not mind at all!

poem by Bai Juyi
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Two Look at Two

Love and forgetting might have carried them
A little further up the mountain side
With night so near, but not much further up.
They must have halted soon in any case
With thoughts of a path back, how rough it was
With rock and washout, and unsafe in darkness;
When they were halted by a tumbled wall
With barbed-wire binding. They stood facing this,
Spending what onward impulse they still had
In One last look the way they must not go,
On up the failing path, where, if a stone
Or earthslide moved at night, it moved itself;
No footstep moved it. 'This is all,' they sighed,
Good-night to woods.' But not so; there was more.
A doe from round a spruce stood looking at them
Across the wall, as near the wall as they.
She saw them in their field, they her in hers.
The difficulty of seeing what stood still,
Like some up-ended boulder split in two,
Was in her clouded eyes; they saw no fear there.
She seemed to think that two thus they were safe.
Then, as if they were something that, though strange,
She could not trouble her mind with too long,
She sighed and passed unscared along the wall.
'This, then, is all. What more is there to ask?'
But no, not yet. A snort to bid them wait.
A buck from round the spruce stood looking at them
Across the wall as near the wall as they.
This was an antlered buck of lusty nostril,
Not the same doe come back into her place.
He viewed them quizzically with jerks of head,
As if to ask, 'Why don't you make some motion?
Or give some sign of life? Because you can't.
I doubt if you're as living as you look."
Thus till he had them almost feeling dared
To stretch a proffering hand -- and a spell-breaking.
Then he too passed unscared along the wall.
Two had seen two, whichever side you spoke from.
'This must be all.' It was all. Still they stood,
A great wave from it going over them,
As if the earth in one unlooked-for favour
Had made them certain earth returned their love.

poem by Robert Frost
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Would You

Would you come for me?
Would you come see?

Would you miss me if I left?
And blame death for the aweful theft?

Would you come with me to eternity?
Would you have enough maturaty?

Would you tell me you love me?
If my mind was lost at sea?

Would you be there for me?
Would you all you could be?

Would you still love me if I cryed?
If I looked at life and sighed?

Would you rescue me?
Would you save me?

Would you be the one i need?
If I followed would you lead?

Would tou kiss me when I'm sad?
Would you talk with me when I am mad?

Would you always be mine?
If I asked you to be mine?

Would you give me your heart?
Would you love me from the start?

Would you be the perfect love,
Sent from above?

Would you be there till the end?
Would you be my best friend?

Would you do anything for me?
Would you love me for me?

poem by Bethany Maxwell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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And Then?

I would dress warmly
For wintery days
Wear a hat when they
Predicted rain
And still come home soaked
And I would think
‘And then? ’

I would call you
You wouldn’t answer
I sighed and stayed quiet for a while
And I would think
‘And then? ’

It would storm heavily
And I would listen to the breaking leaves
The spring day would become
The theme of a piano ballad
The death of the sun in seasons’ tears
And I thought
‘And then? ’

I saw the only photo of us
Looking opposite ways
I would smile in quietness again
And think
‘What would happen anyway? ’

I sighed and stayed quiet for a while
Waiting for someone to tell me
To wake up again
And then I would think
- As I always do -
‘And then? ’

poem by Sammy Edrisi
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A Valentine in Pain

A dream of hidden death,
Embedded in her flowers –
Dripping; drenched in nectar tears

Now the dream of dying soul;
Confined, a trembling heart is
Squeezing out the ember years

And in her dream of youth,
Abounding buttocks writhe,
Acting out the careless dares

But the dream of hideous beauty:
Self-delusion, begging fears

Evolving from an agonising birth, her
Blacker days eclipsing; draining worth

‘So ugly living calls to die –
Forever in the dreams I cry! ’

Erotic debt; a laughing lie
Were done for her –
A blade for sure!
The dreams to cure!

A calming sigh…

And in a smile of pain
She bled and waned
Her cold pathetic bye

Suicide Suicide Suicide cried
Suicide Suicide Suicide died
Suicide Suicide Suicide sighed
Suicide Suicide Suicide lied

Suicide Suicide Suicide tried
Suicide Suicide Suicide ride!

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Lilly's Lines

THE LILLY'S LINES

You lay down naked
I search you with my lips
I am hungry for
our sensual places
between your torso
and your thighs
whiter than any alabaster
so delicate and so thin.

I kiss you left
I kiss you right
I kiss you firmly
I kiss you softly
I lick you often
more, she sighed
always wanting
We deny tomorrow.

No scents and no perfume
yet I smell you strongly
and so sweet,
I will taste your sapid skin
and cherish your savor
our whispers are stirring
more, I sighed
always wanting.

poem by Clive Thompson
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Song (Untitled #4)

Two wedded lovers watched the rising moon,
That with her strange mysterious beauty glowing,
Over misty hills and waters flowing,
Crowned the long twilight loveliness of June:
And thus in me, and thus in me, they spake,
The solemn secret of fist love did wake.

Above the hills the blushing orb arose;
Her shape encircled by a radiant bower,
In which the nightingale with charmed power
Poured forth enchantment o'er the dark repose:
And thus in me, and thus in me, they said,
Earth's mists did with the sweet new spirit wed.

Far up the sky with ever purer beam,
Upon the throne of night the moon was seated,
And down the valley glens the shades retreated,
And silver light was on the open stream.
And thus in me, and thus in me, they sighed,
Aspiring Love has hallowed Passion's tide.

poem by George Meredith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Perfection! Absolute Perfection!

As soon as I laid eyes on her, I couldn't say a word!
The reason for that to occur? Romance within me stirred...
I couldn't move as we stood there, to offer her my hand,
Because my heart was deep in prayer! In Love's sweet wonderland!
'Hello, ' she said, 'Are you OK? Another lost in space! '
But still I stood, no words to say... still gazing on her face.
'Oh, no, it's happening again! You're smitten like the rest!
Hearts and flowers! Romantic men! So easily impressed!
A whiff of perfume and you're gone! Some blonde with silky hair!
Why can't you see it's all a con and that you should beware! ? '
But she was perfect! Without doubt! The best I've ever seen!
The evidence was all about! No wonder I was keen!
I told her straight, 'You're wonderful! The perfect Valentine!
To me, your lips are lovable, as sweet as newmade wine.
To me, your eyes are precious pearls, like sapphires in the sun.
For me, there'll be no other girls... for you're my perfect one.'
She sighed as if she'd heard it all, a thousand times before.
I sighed because I'd heard Love's call and couldn't want for more.
She walked away. She left me there. Still doting on her now...
Until I knew she didn't care... Could never care somehow...
I'll not forget her perfect smile before she spoke to me...
I'll dream of her a long, long while, until Love sets me free...

poem by Denis Martindale
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From The Biography Of An Unknown Woman: Xxxv

promises of love
fade with the sunlight
like over-exposed
colored clothes left to dry

promises of love
hide under the blanket
as the faded light transforms
into pitch dark night...

she sighed
as the birds began to chirp
to the first ray of the sun...

28aug2010
10.03hrs

poem by Indira Babbellapati
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet XXI.

Pensive, at eve, on the hard world I mused,
And my poor heart was sad: so at the Moon
I gazed--and sighed, and sighed--for, ah! how soon
Eve saddens into night! Mine eyes perused,
With tearful vacancy, the dampy grass,
That wept and glitter'd in the paly ray,
And I did pause me on my lonely way,
And mused me on the wretched ones, who pass
O'er the black heath of Sorrow. But, alas!
Most of myself I thought: when it befell,
That the sooth Spirit of the breezy wood
Breath'd in mine ear--'All this is very well;
But much of one thing is for no thing good.'
Ah! my poor heart's inexplicable swell!

poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
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Romance In The Market Place

YOU stood beside the flowers,
Yourself a flower;
And on your face
The twilight stayed another hour,
It shone so pale;
And all around men talked as in a market-place.
I heard them talk, and felt
No interest stir
In what they said.
Lilies were nigh you, and around you were
The lights of love,
And all about the world moved on with nervous tread.
I heard it not; for down
And round about
My soul you drew
The veils that shut the loud earth out,
And I and you
Were there alone — no one beside but I and you!
What words were those we said?
Old ones, perchance,
Pale with the pain
Of all who've kissed, and talked romance,
And said farewell,
And mixed their tears and kissed, and sighed — and sighed in vain.
We stood a sainted while,
And then your hand
Sought to be free,
And you were gone; and all the land
Was under gloom,
And lamps were lit for other men, but none for me.
I stood and watched you go,
And suddenly
The loud world grew
Like some great-voiced, insetting sea;
And men went by,
Talking of trade and war and all but love and you.

poem by Roderic Quinn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Quest

I dreamt a dream like none before.
It stirred my very soul!
It started with an open door
Through which I chose to stroll.
Then, once inside, that room beyond,
My heart was filled with fear!
Yet how else could my heart respond?
I sensed that God was here!

Then, suddenly, I heard Him speak
As He called out my name...
I trembled and my legs grew weak.
My conscience brought me shame.
'Fear not! ' He said, 'We meet this night
To put you on a quest! '
'What for? ' I asked without delight...
No way did I feel blessed!

'You've prayed a lot! ' the Lord replied.
'A woman you desire! '
I've heard you when you've sighed and sighed!
Yes, you're quite a sigher!
Your quest, My son, is search and find
One woman for your wife!
One woman with a holy mind
To live with all your life! '

Then God was gone and I awoke,
Still trembling, scared to death!
Wondering, was this just a joke?
Or Christ from Nazareth! ?
Somehow I sensed God had a plan,
A sacred destiny.
That morning came and so began
The quest God meant for me...

I walked across the years ahead...
My youth then passed me by...
In middle age, and still not wed,
I humbly wondered why.
No woman with a holy mind,
Obedient to God's Laws.
I tested them, but couldn't find
A female without flaws.

I prayed to God, 'I've failed, my Lord!
No woman cares for me...
No woman's love is my reward
To share eternally...'
Then old age came and Death approached,
'How goes your noble quest? '
'Be still! ' rebuked the Holy Ghost...
'I know he did his best...'

poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To a Friend

I sighed:
He died.
He had a million dollar job,
I sobbed.
He had tenure.
He had good pasture.
Oh! my God.
Oh! Great God.
He died.
He was a good man,
A special person
That you can
Easily be a great fan
Of.
He showed a lot of love
When you talked to this
Son
Of a gun.
He was a fun
Guy. You could talk
And walk with him
After the A.C. Convention.
I always had a special vision
Of him.
Because he was different,
He was a great family man.

Good health
Is more important
Than great wealth.
Money is there to be spent
And money cannot buy heaven
And the eternal life.
He had a great wife.
A great job,
I sobbed.
I sighed,
He died
Abruptly,
Suddenly
Without saying good bye.
He had everything,
Except one thing:
Eternity.
This is a pity!
He left eveything behind.
He was a man of a great mind,
He left with that too.
He was among a few
Good gentlemen left on this planet,
He disappeared in the sunset.
The world will forever miss this good man.
He was not a good friend,
Nevertheless, he was a friend,
A brother and a gentleman.

Copyright 2008 Hebert Logerie
Author of the poetry book 'Sparkles of Love' and Etincelles de l'Amour
Hébert Logerie is the author of “Mounts And Valleys of Love”
https: //www2.xlibris.com/bookstore/bookdisplay.aspx? bookid=58359
PLEASE ORDER AT [email protected] OR CALL 1-866-957-5010!

poem by Hebert Logerie
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On an Air of Rameau

A melancholy desire of ancient things
Floats like a faded perfume out of the wires;
Pallid lovers, what unforgotten desires,
Whispered once, are retold in your whisperings?

Roses, roses, and lilies with hearts of gold,
These you plucked for her, these she wore in her breast;
Only Rameau's music remembers the rest,
The death of roses over a heart grown cold.

But these sighs? Can ghosts then sigh from the tomb?
Life then wept for you, sighed for you, chilled your breath?
It is the melancholy of ancient death
The harpsichord dreams of, sighing in the room.

poem by Arthur Symons
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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'Love me! ' loud she cried.
None replied. 'Then, at the least,
notice me! ' she sighed.

haiku by Jonathan Robin (10 January 1993)
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When I Look At The Time That I Have Wasted Years Ago

i feel like a frozen glass filled with water in the freezer
when i look back to all the years that i have wasted
doing the things where i can never put my best
because that is what father want me to be
i leave all the traces of what i love in those years
that still ask me where i am
where i live what i have been doing lately

when they heard that i am into law they all laughed
and then sighed
that is not the name that they first know me
they have a word for me
written in the poems that i once wrote
my name was lust and love all bound together
in one piece
my name was written in the cover book of the literature book
in the maiden issues
of the poetry collections of lilia and tita

i look back again and they all raise their hands back
as though to embrace me
back into their bosoms again
they are calling my name

you are poetry.please come back to us.
i know the reason why i am sad.
i have forgotten my real name.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Lament

When I was a windy boy and a bit
And the black spit of the chapel fold,
(Sighed the old ram rod, dying of women),
I tiptoed shy in the gooseberry wood,
The rude owl cried like a tell-tale tit,
I skipped in a blush as the big girls rolled
Nine-pin down on donkey's common,
And on seesaw sunday nights I wooed
Whoever I would with my wicked eyes,
The whole of the moon I could love and leave
All the green leaved little weddings' wives
In the coal black bush and let them grieve.

When I was a gusty man and a half
And the black beast of the beetles' pews
(Sighed the old ram rod, dying of bitches),
Not a boy and a bit in the wick-
Dipping moon and drunk as a new dropped calf,
I whistled all night in the twisted flues,
Midwives grew in the midnight ditches,
And the sizzling sheets of the town cried, Quick!-
Whenever I dove in a breast high shoal,
Wherever I ramped in the clover quilts,
Whatsoever I did in the coal-
Black night, I left my quivering prints.

When I was a man you could call a man
And the black cross of the holy house,
(Sighed the old ram rod, dying of welcome),
Brandy and ripe in my bright, bass prime,
No springtailed tom in the red hot town
With every simmering woman his mouse
But a hillocky bull in the swelter
Of summer come in his great good time
To the sultry, biding herds, I said,
Oh, time enough when the blood runs cold,
And I lie down but to sleep in bed,
For my sulking, skulking, coal black soul!

When I was half the man I was
And serve me right as the preachers warn,
(Sighed the old ram rod, dying of downfall),
No flailing calf or cat in a flame
Or hickory bull in milky grass
But a black sheep with a crumpled horn,
At last the soul from its foul mousehole
Slunk pouting out when the limp time came;
And I gave my soul a blind, slashed eye,
Gristle and rind, and a roarers' life,
And I shoved it into the coal black sky
To find a woman's soul for a wife.

Now I am a man no more no more
And a black reward for a roaring life,
(Sighed the old ram rod, dying of strangers),
Tidy and cursed in my dove cooed room
I lie down thin and hear the good bells jaw--
For, oh, my soul found a sunday wife
In the coal black sky and she bore angels!
Harpies around me out of her womb!
Chastity prays for me, piety sings,
Innocence sweetens my last black breath,
Modesty hides my thighs in her wings,
And all the deadly virtues plague my death!

poem by Dylan Thomas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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