
Slim adolescence that a nymph has stripped,
III
Slim adolescence that a nymph has stripped,
Peleus on Thetis stares.
Her limbs are delicate as an eyelid,
Love has blinded him with tears;
But Thetis' belly listens.
Down the mountain walls
From where pan's cavern is
Intolerable music falls.
Foul goat-head, brutal arm appear,
Belly, shoulder, bum,
Flash fishlike; nymphs and satyrs
Copulate in the foam.
poem by William Butler Yeats

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Related quotes

Slim adolescence that a nymph has stripped
III
Slim adolescence that a nymph has stripped,
Peleus on Thetis stares.
Her limbs are delicate as an eyelid,
Love has blinded him with tears;
But Thetis' belly listens.
Down the mountain walls
From where pan's cavern is
Intolerable music falls.
Foul goat-head, brutal arm appear,
Belly, shoulder, bum,
Flash fishlike; nymphs and satyrs
Copulate in the foam.
poem by William Butler Yeats

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Unfaithfulness
When Thetis and Peleus got married
Apollo stood up at the sumptuous wedding feast
and blessed the bridal pair
for the son who would come from their union.
'Sickness will never visit him,' he said,
'and his life will be a long one.'
This pleased Thetis immensely:
the words of Apollo, expert in prophecies,
seemed a guarantee of security for her child.
And when Achilles grew up
and all Thessaly said how beautiful he was,
Thetis remembered the god's words.
But one day some elders came in with the news
that Achilles had been killed at Troy.
Thetis tore her purple robes,
pulled off rings, bracelets,
flung them to the ground.
And in her grief, remembering that wedding scene,
she asked what the wise Apollo was up to,
where was this poet who spouts
so eloquently at banquets, where was this prophet
when they killed her son in his prime?
And the elders answered that Apollo himself
had gone down to Troy
and with the Trojans had killed her son.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy

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Belly rub
Belly rub,
belly rub,
begs my dog.
Gonna catch that freesby,
then bring it right back to you.
Belly rub,
belly rub,
begs my dog.
if you feed me steak, ill jump in
the pool.
Belly rub,
belly rub,
begs my dog.
if you let me sleep in your bed,
ill protect you from demons and
ghost.
poem by David Gerardino

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For My Dog Amber Who Died A Year Ago
Belly rub,
belly rub,
begs my dog.
Gonna catch that freesby,
then bring it right back to you.
Belly rub,
belly rub,
begs my dog.
if you feed me steak, ill jump in
the pool.
Belly rub,
belly rub,
begs my dog.
if you let me sleep in your bed,
ill protect you from demons and
ghost.
poem by David Gerardino

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When I Touch Your Belly
When I touch your belly tears of amazement run down my eyes.
I am so amazed that inside your womb a life lies.
A child that was created all from our love;
God, I can’t believe that in a few weeks you’ll give birth to our miracle of love.
When I touch your belly with my ear;
I can’t believe the heart beat I hear.
It like a little drum beating a message to me;
In the sounds of the beat I swear our child is saying hi daddy.
When I touch your belly I caressing you as well as our child;
I’m caressing you to say thank you for carrying our child.
I could not have chosen a better mother then you.
These are all the things I’m saying when I touch your belly.
Interruption
We interrupt the work of the gods,
hasty and inexperienced beings of the moment.
In the palaces of Eleusis and Phthia
Demeter and Thetis start good works
amid high flames and dense smoke. But
always Metaneira rushes from the king's
chambers, disheveled and scared,
and always Peleus is fearful and interferes.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy

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Tantalizing
I have seen that her eyes are sharp.
Her eyes are sharp and attentive
But still I dare not encounter them.
They hold my head captive.
I have seen that her nose is stern.
Her nose is stern and aiming
But still that nose I cannot pinch.
It torments my eyes, straining.
I found that her lips are of flesh.
Her lips are fleshy and amorous
But still the very lips I cannot caress.
They render my lips nervous.
I like her face being slim and slender.
Her face is slim and passionate
But still I cannot claim that of her.
It keeps my brain desolate.
I wonder how nimble her limbs are.
Her limbs are nimble and at hand
But still to touch them I don’t dare.
They set my belly to grind.
I understand that her vibes is strong.
Her vibes is strong and resonant
But still me she chose to tantalize.
She left my soul poignant.
Total reticence from her
Might have been better
Rather than raising hope
And then belying it.
05.05.99
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

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The Alabaster Cave ~ A Villanelle
Inside the belly of the whale
He left her to construct her fate
A conduct far beyond the pale
A darkness like the pit of hell
She slipped and tumbled upside down
Inside the belly of the whale
Skeletal hands with sharp toenails
That clung to alabaster walls
And onyx wing-beats flapped pell-mell
The mousy guano rained and fell
Laying eggs inside her hair
Inside the belly of the whale!
She looked to hide to no avail
He'd plowed ahead and left her there
A conduct far beyond the pale
No handholds, twas like reading Braille
He'd doused the green light lamp telltales
Inside the belly of the whale
A conduct far beyond the pale
poem by Sara Fielder

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Pan
1.
O goat-foot God of Arcady!
This modern world is grey and old,
And what remains to us of thee?
No more the shepherd lads in glee
Throw apples at thy wattled fold,
O goat-foot God of Arcady!
Nor through the laurels can one see
Thy soft brown limbs, thy beard of gold,
And what remains to us of thee?
And dull and dead our Thames would be,
For here the winds are chill and cold,
O goat-foot God of Arcady!
Then keep the tomb of Helice,
Thine olive-woods, thy vine-clad wold,
And what remains to us of thee?
Though many an unsung elegy
Sleeps in the reeds our rivers hold,
O goat-foot God of Arcady!
Ah, what remains to us of thee?
2.
Ah, leave the hills of Arcady,
Thy satyrs and their wanton play,
This modern world hath need of thee.
No nymph of Faun indeed have we,
For Faun and nymph are old and grey,
Ah, leave the hills of Arcady!
This is the land where liberty
Lit grave-browed Milton on his way,
This modern world hath need of thee!
A land of ancient chivalry
Where gentle Sidney saw the day,
Ah, leave the hills of Arcady.
This fierce sea-lion of the sea,
This England lacks some stronger lay,
This modern world hath need of thee!
Then blow some trumpet loud and free,
And give thine oaten pipe away,
Ah, leave the hills of Arcady!
This modern world hath need of thee!
poem by Oscar Wilde

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Double Villanelle
I.
O goat-foot God of Arcady!
This modern world is grey and old,
And what remains to us of thee?
No more the shepherd lads in glee
Throw apples at thy wattled fold,
O goat-foot God of Arcady!
Nor through the laurels can one see
Thy soft brown limbs, thy beard of gold
And what remains to us of thee?
And dull and dead our Thames would be,
For here the winds are chill and cold,
O goat-loot God of Arcady!
Then keep the tomb of Helice,
Thine olive-woods, thy vine-clad wold,
And what remains to us of thee?
Though many an unsung elegy
Sleeps in the reeds our rivers hold,
O goat-foot God of Arcady!
Ah, what remains to us of thee?
II.
Ah, leave the hills of Arcady,
Thy satyrs and their wanton play,
This modern world hath need of thee.
No nymph or Faun indeed have we,
For Faun and nymph are old and grey,
Ah, leave the hills of Arcady!
This is the land where liberty
Lit grave-browed Milton on his way,
This modern world hath need of thee!
A land of ancient chivalry
Where gentle Sidney saw the day,
Ah, leave the hills of Arcady!
This fierce sea-lion of the sea,
This England lacks some stronger lay,
This modern world hath need of thee!
Then blow some trumpet loud and free,
And give thine oaten pipe away,
Ah, leave the hills of Arcady!
This modern world hath need of thee!
poem by Oscar Wilde

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You can't love Thetis and Galatea at the same time.
If the goat rejects the grass, its belly is full.
Erotic Lullaby For Bedding, After Roethke
Belly belly the hard boiled egg.
I map out of a dream.
Love a long necked boy.
Dance lips! Leaves of legion.
Jelly, yard dog! Leap to June.
Suckle me, honey,
long necked, boney onion.
Why cry when peeled?
Count the rings of a tree,
the circles of a breath.
The nose is a love.
Press me, press me.
Iron me soft.
A breath leans,
nape of jeans falling.
Wedge me, wedge me.
Be an ax.
Clap me, trunk of calcium,
bone of need.
Sing, throat, puller of weeds,
secret coronations.
I day your arbor.
You arbor my seed,
belly belly
egg of sway.
Falter me,
long necked, naked boy.
Lather I'd rather thee.
All egg is joy.
poem by Warren Falcon

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The hungry belly and the full belly do not walk the same road.
She Talks About Love
Once in a lifetime....
Down at the end, the end of the line
There's a girl who waits for love
She is the one he's hoping for
But there's another one she's thinking of
She doesn't know his name, doesn't know his face
She'll recognize the feeling in any case
She'll be swept away by the flies inside
Make her beautiful, make her come alive
She talks about love, nobody listens
She talks about love, nobody cares
She talks about love, nobody listens
She talks about love, she believes in love
She falls and she falls but never laughs
In the arms of the one she wants
Fights for a dream she's never seen
In a world of rocks and stones
Ands she knows it's there, knows it does exist
A feeling oh so real, almost divine bliss
Takes her breath away, a gem beyond compare
Makes her weak in the knees, she knows that love is rare
She talks about love, nobody listens
She talks about love, nobody cares
She talks about love, nobody listens
She talks about love, she believes in love
The measure of time
Will prevent what's mine
She believes in once upon a time
Once in a lifetime
She talks about love, nobody listens
She talks about love, nobody cares
She talks about love, nobody listens
She talks about love, she believes in love
She talks about love, nobody listens
She talks about love, nobody cares
She talks about love, nobody listens
She talks about love, she believes in love
song performed by by Vitamin C

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Hidden Sweetness Is There
217
What hidden sweetness there is in this emptiness of the belly!
Man is surely like a lute, no more and no less;
For if, for instance, the belly of the lute becomes full, no
lament high or low will arise from that full lute.
If your brain and belly are on fire through fasting, because of
the fire every moment a lament will arise from your breast.
Every moment you will burn a thousand veils by that fire; you
will mount a hundred steps with zeal and endeavor.
Become empty of belly, and weep entreatingly like the reed
pipe; become empty of belly, and tell secrets with the reed pen.
If your belly is full at the time of concourse, it will bring Satan
in place of your reason, an idol in place of the Kaaba.
When you keep the fast, good habits gather together before
you like slaves and servants and retinue.
Keep the fast, for that is Solomon’s ring; give not the ring to
the div, destroy not your kingdom.
Even if your kingdom has gone from your head and your army
has fled, your army will rise up, pennants flying above them.
The table arrived from heaven to the tents of the fast, by the
intervention of the prayers of Jesus, son of Mary.
In the fast, be expectant of the table of bounty, for the table of
bounty is better than the broth of cabbages.
Can be a servant
Don’t feel being a servant
In the family of your son
If it is for your belly
For you had been a servant
At your will to bring him up
With no return for your belly.
06.05.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

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A Blue Bird...
THERE is a blue bird
nesting inside my belly
there are butterflies in
there too,
THERE is nothing that
comes out from my belly
there is nothing that
flutters in there
nothing flies away
there is nothing
that comes out from
my mouth
THERE is only a blue bird
in my belly
the butterflies do not
last
only the blue bird
yes
this blue bird
this silence
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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