
The Hosting Of The Sidhe
The host is riding from Knocknarea
And over the grave of Clooth-na-Bare;
Caoilte tossing his burning hair,
And Niamh calling Away, come away:
Empty your heart of its mortal dream.
The winds awaken, the leaves whirl round,
Our cheeks are pale, our hair is unbound,
Our breasts are heaving, our eyes are agleam,
Our arms are waving, our lips are apart;
And if any gaze on our rushing band,
We come between him and the deed of his hand,
We come between him and the hope of his heart.
The host is rushing 'twixt night and day,
And where is there hope or deed as fair?
Caoilte tossing his burning hair,
And Niamh calling Away, come away.
poem by William Butler Yeats

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Take Care, Take Care
Bind up, bind up your dark bright hair
And hide the smouldering sunken fire.
Let it be held no more than fair,
Nor yourself guess how rare, how rare
Its movement, colour and deep fire.
Your eyes they have their consciousness,
Your lips their grave reflective smile,
Your hands their cunning for distress:
Your hair has only beauteousness
And hid flame for its only guile.
That glowing hair on shoulders white
Is pride past sum: take care, take care!
Even to dream of wish'd delight
Too much perturbs the ebb of night--
Bind up, bind up your burning hair!
poem by John Freeman

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Supremacy is the beauty
Chubby lips, plump cheeks, massive breasts, fleshy buttocks,
Blunt nose, hairy skin, coarse hair and black eyes
Are the features the Dravidians inherited from the Negros.
Thin lips, flat cheeks, rounded breasts, slated buttocks,
Long nose, pale skin, silky hair and brown eyes
Are the features Aryan inherited from the White race.
Aryans are held beautiful by their cultural supremacy.
30.11.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Mess Of A Man
Meet a man,
A man named Harry,
He's in need of a shave,
And it's quite scary,
He's got hair on his chest,
Hair on his back,
Hair on his ass,
And hair in his crack,
He leaves hair on the soap,
Hair on the floor,
Hair every place,
Including the store,
Harry, dear Harry,
Do something, please,
Your hair retains odor,
And you reek of cheese!
Look at your cat,
What will you do?
Your cat's hairballs,
They're the hairs from you!
No hope, it seems,
For your hairiness,
It'll just regrow,
So live in your mess.
poem by Maddy Jones

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The New Theory
A butterfly's wing
moving gracefully
in a still Asian dawn
works up a storm
that beats the hell
out of us in Pennsylvania.
I used to think it was
a woman somewhere
on he other side of the world,
turning, maybe, in her sleep,
or tossing the hair
from her face with a soft flip,
that has wakened me
on this lonely dark night,
not a sound, not a glint
of light out the window,
and no air at all
on this night when I need
air, even if only
what comes of a butterfly
passing, or a woman
turning, or tossing her hair.
Anonymous submission.
poem by Louis McKee

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
This House Is On Fire
Got what she want
Got what she want, hitting one of three
A little tongue in cheek, ha, positionality
She bring on the flames, and its burning and burning
My bodys aching, tossing and turning
Chorus:
House is on fire
House is on fire
This house is on fire
And the flame is gonna burn you down
She got me running for shelter
Needin quarantine
She got me red hot and wired
Call an emergency
She bring on the flames, and its burning and burning
My bodys aching, tossing and turning
Chorus
You got me burning and burning
You got me tossing and turning
song performed by by AC-DC

Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Suffocation
Last night I had the weirdest dream
I dreamt that I was lying in bed
With this girl whose hair was
As black as the night and as
Thick as a forest,
And her hair, her hair was
Smothering me
Or at least, I thought it was
Her hair,
Until I noticed it was her hands
Running over my face,
My lips
My eyes
My cheeks.
As hot as the desert
And smooth as silk
But pressing down
Pressing me into my pillow
Until I could see nothing
But the pink of her skin
And I thought,
Im gunna die
Those hands are gunna
Kill me
Until I realized really,
It wasn’t hands,
But lips,
Sucking the air from mine
Engulfing my last breath
And drawing it into her being
And I thought, well,
At least lips are
A nice way to go
Until finally I came
To my goddamn senses
And I realized,
I realized it wasn’t her lips
But the words coming
From those sweet lips
That was suffocating me
And it was “I love you”
I was choking on
Not her hair, hands or lips
At all.
poem by Nick Downer

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
All The Fun Of The Fair
Tomorrow I'll find someone new
Tomorrow I won't have the flu
I'll wake up with the sun
Shake stardust from my hair
Watch all my colours run
Yes, all the fun of the fair.
Tomorrow I won't slash my wrists
Not while the alcohol persists
But cry to the same sad refrain.
And spend the night in a chair.
As love leaves on a distant train
Tomorrow, all the fun of the fair.
As bitterness eats me alive
She tears my heart from afar
My gamble is just to survive
My emotions all in a jar
- On the shelf of forgotten dream
While hope drowns in silver stream
That washes my touch from her hair.
Ah yes, tomorrow all the fun of the fair.
poem by Kevin East

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Burning
When I look at you
I melt like a candle
You light a fire in me
What am I to do
I just hope I can handle
The heat and the smoke blinding me
This feeling, this fire
This burning desire
Is raging its way through my soul
And if you feel the same
Help me fan the flames
til were burning out of control
Burning to know you
Burning to show you
And Ive felt this way from the start
Burning with passion
I do hope its lasting
And its burning a hole in my heart
You kindle in me
A warm glowing feeling
A spark and a flicker of hope
Its more than a game
And like moths to a flame
Were drawn to its warmth and its glow
These embers of love
Are fueled by the notion
This could be an eternal flame
Consumed by the blaze
I fear its too late
cause this torch that I hold bears your name
Oh, and Im burning to know you
Burning to hold you
Its grown to a flame from a spark
Burning with passion
I do hope its lasting
And its burning a hole in my heart
Oh, Im burning with passion
I do hope its lasting...
Ive had so many dreams fall apart...
And its burning a hole in my heart...
Im burning
Oh, Im burning
Mmmm, Im burning oh, I burning ooh
song performed by by Dolly Parton

Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

La Bella Donna Della Mia Mente
MY limbs are wasted with a flame,
My feet are sore with travelling,
For calling on my Lady's name
My lips have now forgot to sing.
O Linnet in the wild-rose brake
Strain for my Love thy melody,
O Lark sing louder for love's sake,
My gentle Lady passeth by.
She is too fair for any man
To see or hold his heart's delight,
Fairer than Queen or courtezan
Or moon-lit water in the night.
Her hair is bound with myrtle leaves,
(Green leaves upon her golden hair!)
Green grasses through the yellow sheaves
Of autumn corn are not more fair.
Her little lips, more made to kiss
Than to cry bitterly for pain,
Are tremulous as brook-water is,
Or roses after evening rain.
Her neck is like white melilote
Flushing for pleasure of the sun,
The throbbing of the linnet's throat
Is not so sweet to look upon.
As a pomegranate, cut in twain,
White-seeded, is her crimson mouth,
Her cheeks are as the fading stain
Where the peach reddens to the south.
O twining hands! O delicate
White body made for love and pain!
O House of love! O desolate
Pale flower beaten by the rain!
poem by Oscar Wilde

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Hopelessly Lost A (January)
Feel the tingling in your heart deep with in
the pulse of the Spirit with in your body
the beating pulse of blood rushing
the deep stare to which your eyes gaze
Feel the burning of the passion
the crying of your soul for everything
the righteousness burning at a fury
the deep words which cut my heart for you
Feel that feeling that is so sweet
the tenderness that is everlasting
the passion in my soul for you so deep
burning burning burning just for you
the love between me and you so strong
hopelessly lost forevermore which i do not ignore
poem by Branden Aeling

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

He Bids His Beloved Be At Peace
I HEAR the Shadowy Horses, their long manes a-shake,
Their hoofs heavy with tumult, their eyes glimmering white;
The North unfolds above them clinging, creeping night,
The East her hidden joy before the morning break,
The West weeps in pale dew and sighs passing away,
The South is pouring down roses of crimson fire:
O vanity of Sleep, Hope, Dream, endless Desire,
The Horses of Disaster plunge in the heavy clay:
Beloved, let your eyes half close, and your heart beat
Over my heart, and your hair fall over my breast,
Drowning love's lonely hour in deep twilight of rest,
And hiding their tossing manes and their tumultuous feet.
poem by William Butler Yeats

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Alone in the Wind, on the Prairie
I know a seraph who has golden eyes,
And hair of gold, and body like the snow.
Here in the wind I dream her unbound hair
Is blowing round me, that desire's sweet glow
Has touched her pale keen face, and willful mien.
And though she steps as one in manner born
To tread the forests of fair Paradise,
Dark memory's wood she chooses to adorn.
Here with bowed head, bashful with half-desire
She glides into my yesterday's deep dream,
All glowing by the misty ferny cliff
Beside the far forbidden thundering stream.
Within my dream I shake with the old flood.
I fear its going, ere the spring days go.
Yet pray the glory may have deathless years,
And kiss her hair, and sweet throat like the snow.
poem by Vachel Lindsay

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Lover Asks Forgiveness Because Of His Many Moods
IF this importunate heart trouble your peace
With words lighter than air,
Or hopes that in mere hoping flicker and cease;
Crumple the rose in your hair;
And cover your lips with odorous twilight and say,
'O Hearts of wind-blown flame!
O Winds, older than changing of night and day,
That murmuring and longing came
From marble cities loud with tabors of old
In dove-grey faery lands;
From battle-banners, fold upon purple fold,
Queens wrought with glimmering hands;
That saw young Niamh hover with love-lorn face
Above the wandering tide;
And lingered in the hidden desolate place
Where the last Phoenix died,
And wrapped the flames above his holy head;
And still murmur and long:
O piteous Hearts, changing till change be dead
In a tumultuous song':
And cover the pale blossoms of your breast
With your dim heavy hair,
And trouble with a sigh for all things longing for rest
The odorous twilight there.
poem by William Butler Yeats

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Want More Hair?
I'd love
I think
more hair
more hair
like a big
old grizzly bear
more hair makes
you manly
more hair
makes you tough
more hair feels
like carpet
more hair keeps
you rough
more hair
for pretty ladies
to rub their faces on
more hair for
guys to jealous of
and more locks that can
be flung
I think more hair would be awesome
but I wouldn't wanna overdo it
because too much hair would make
me like a little furry blanket
and I couldn't cover both of us
just you and that ain't fair
more hair!
poem by John W. McEwers

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Aish is all graceful
Be in ultra modern jeans, with hair cropped,
Be in curves with a bikini, with hair cascading,
Be in swimming suit, with hair dripping,
Be in top and middy, with hair thrown back,
Be in velvet chudidhar, with hair hiding the cheeks,
Be in saree and blouse, with hair loosely knotted,
Be with chemise on breasts, with hair permed and ornamented,
Be on cotton saree, with hair made to bun,
Be in half saree and blouse, with hair tightly plaited,
Or be in any fashion that comes into being,
The actress Aish is blooming and beaming,
What not is the fashion or style for Aish, all the grace?
19.10.2000
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Missing
And as I wander down to where you lay
The blood rushed up to meet the roses in your hair
I thought I saw you smile but now I dont see you anywhere
Whispering your love song in my ear
How can you touch me, when youre not really there?
Stumbling out I made my way towards the open door..
Climbing fast the sun broad streaming laughter down into your empty gaze
Where can I find you
Now I want to join in your games
I hear you calling
I hear you ... calling, calling, calling, calling...
Whispering your love song in my ear
How can you touch me?
How do you really dare?
Ohh oooh
song performed by by Duran Duran

Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Bear and the Hare
The bear is always bare. I have never seen a bear who was not bare. Or does he or she wear a coat of hair? Where does he or she go to buy a coat of hair so that he or she won't be a bare bear? Coats cost money. Bare bears have no money.
But bears eat honey. Even bare bears eat honey. And this bear had a honey who wanted a coat of hair. So when she said to her honey, 'Honey, I want a coat of hair, but I have no money.', her honey replied, 'Honey, I have no money to buy a coat of hair. But I do have honey. Maybe I can sell my honey for money.' So he sold his honey for money so that his honey could have some money to buy a coat of hair and not be a bare bear.
This bear had a friend who was a hare. This hare has hair. Is he bare? He is not a bare bear but a hare and hares have hair. But he is a funny bunny and likes a sunny spot even when it is hot because he like to have fun in the sun. But this funny bunny could not find a sunny spot to go to have fun in the sun until one day a fair came to town.
The bear and hare of course went to the fair. What a pair! The fair was quite far so the bare bear and the hare with the hair decided to ride the street car. To ride the street car, they had to pay a fare. I say that was quite an affair - to see the bare bear and the hair paying for their fare. The bare bear had no pockets in which to carry any fare. The funny bunny had no honey to sell to get some money to pay the fare so that he could go to the fair. The fare cost ten cents. But that makes no sense. It isn't fair to make a bear who is bare and has no pockets to hold a fare or a funny bunny who has no honey to get money to pay a fare to go to the fair.
Subsequently, the bare bear barely got on the street car after the funny bunny hopped on, the bare bear and the hair were there sitting in chairs riding in the street car to the fair without paying any fare. Along the way they saw a mare. They did not care about the mare. They wanted to get to the fair. Have you every seen a bare bear sitting in a chair? I once saw a bare bear sitting in a chair at a fair but he wasn't bare.
To get into the fair the bare bear and the hair had to pay another fare. And still the bare bear had no money to pay any fare to get into the fair. And the funny bunny had no money to pay any fare to get into the fair. So what did they do? How did they get into the fair? As I said, I saw the bare bear sitting in a chair at the fair but he wasn't bare.
Tell me if this is a poem. Thanks.
poem by Ben Gieske

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Advents of the Sun
Over my empty shoulders
I want you to sear past my skin
Split my valley with your hair
as I lay on my back
I'll gaze at you between mountains
Watch you rise and set
I want to wrap myself around you
Arms and legs made of blue
Cold lips warmth for you
Leaf-draped in pink and orange
as you hug me nightly
Spread your hair when
you dream under my sea
poem by Cheryl Renaud

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Were There Hope
I was never in a league of noble gentlemen
To whom she'd cast polite and flitting smiles,
Only distant hope and dying dreams for me!
Or perhaps descent into a game of wiles
To give a chance of sipping wine on heady nights
With her angelic presence to declare;
Above, an aura playing out hypnotic hues,
And I in awe of blonde cascades of hair.
But no! my tiring soul is sinking in a mire
To haunt me for an age and evermore, for
How could I expect to hold her silken hand
When I am but a soulless ghost of yore?
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
Hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope hope hope hope hope?
Hope, hope?
Hope?
Never
poem by Mark R Slaughter

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Flame Of Hope
Theres a flame of hope
Burning in my heart
And theres a strange emotion
Tearing me apart
Cause I know
I know
Cause I know
Theres a flame of hope
Calling out your name
But when my arms embrace you
It extinguishes the flame
Cause I know
I know
Cause I know
song performed by by Omd

Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!