Sonnet 103: Alack, what poverty my Muse brings forth
Alack, what poverty my Muse brings forth,
That having such a scope to show her pride,
The argument all bare is of more worth
Than when it hath my added praise beside.
O, blame me not if I no more can write!
Look in your glass, and there appears a face
That overgoes my blunt invention quite,
Dulling my lines, and doing me disgrace.
Were it not sinful then striving to mend,
To mar the subject that before was well?
For to no other pass my verses tend
Than of your graces and your gifts to tell;
And more, much more than in my verse can sit,
Your own glass shows you when you look in it.
poem by William Shakespeare
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Sonnet 38:
How can my muse want subject to invent,
While thou dost breathe, that pour'st into my verse
Thine own sweet argument, too excellent
For every vulgar paper to rehearse?
O! give thy self the thanks, if aught in me
Worthy perusal stand against thy sight;
For who's so dumb that cannot write to thee,
When thou thy self dost give invention light?
Be thou the tenth Muse, ten times more in worth
Than those old nine which rhymers invocate;
And he that calls on thee, let him bring forth
Eternal numbers to outlive long date.
If my slight muse do please these curious days,
The pain be mine, but thine shall be the praise.
poem by William Shakespeare
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Sonnet 38: How can my Muse want subject to invent
How can my Muse want subject to invent
While thou dost breathe, that pour'st into my verse
Thine own sweet argument, too excellent
For every vulgar paper to rehearse?
O, give thyself the thanks, if aught in me
Worthy perusal stand against thy sight,
For who's so dumb that cannot write to thee,
When thou thyself dost give invention light?
Be thou the tenth Muse, ten times more in worth
Than those old nine which rhymers invocate;
And he that calls on thee, let him bring forth
Eternal numbers to outlive long date.
If my slight Muse do please these curious days,
The pain be mine, but thine shall be the praise.
poem by William Shakespeare
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Sonnet XXXVII: O Why Doth Delia
O why doth Delia credit so her glass,
Gazing her beauty deign'd her by the skies,
And doth not rather look on him (alas)
Whose state best shows the force of murd'ring eyes?
The broken tops of lofty trees declare
The fury of a mercy-wanting storm;
And of what force your wounding graces are,
Upon my self you best may find the form.
Then leave your glass, and gaze your self on me,
That Mirror shows what power is in your face;
To view your form too much may danger be:
Narcissus chang'd t'a flower in such a case.
And you are chang'd, but not t'a Hyacint;
I fear your eye hath turn'd your heart to flint.
poem by Samuel Daniel
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Glass War
Glass war, glass war, glass war, glass war, it's a glass war
Glass war, glass war, it's a glass war
Glass war, glass war
It's a glass war
Cause you can see right through the poisen
It's a glass war
Cause we all know the activeties
It's a glass war
Cause it's made of smoke and mirrors
It's a glass war
It's a glass war
It's a glass war
Cause only poor men are dyin in the
Gas war
Cause we know why it was started
It's an ass war
Cause the president's an asshole
It's an ass war
It's a glass war
It's a gas war
Cause the starters are all victims of the
Glass war
The slogan men were starters of the
Last war
Now the southern men are starters of the
Glass war
It's a Glass War
It's a Glass war
And the shards are gunna start another glass war
And the shards are gunna start another glass war
And the shards are gunna start another glass war
And the shards are gunna start another glass war
And the shards are gunna start another glass war
It's a glass war
It's a glass war
song performed by by NOFX
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Friends In Low Places
Blame it all on my roots
I showed up in boots
And ruined your black tie affair
The last one to know
The last one to show
I was the last one
You thought you'd see there
And i saw the surprise
And the fear in his eyes
When i took his glass of champagne
And i toasted you
Said, honey, we may be through
But you'll never hear me complain
(chorus)
'cause i've got friends in low places
Where the whiskey drowns
And the beer chases my blues away
And i'll be okay
I'm not big on social graces
Think i'll slip on down to the oasis
Oh, i've got friends in low places.
Well, i guess i was wrong
I just don't belong
But then, i've been there before
Everything's all right
I'll just say goodnight
And i'll show myself to the door
Hey, i didn't mean
To cause a big scene
Just give me an hour and then
Well, i'll be as high
As that ivory tower
That you're livin' in
*chorus*
(third verse)
I guess i was wrong
I just don't belong
But then, i've been there before
And everything is alright
I'll just say goodnight
And i'll show myself to the door
I didn't mean to cause a big scene
Just wait 'til i finish this glass
Then sweet little lady
I'll head back to the bar
And you can kiss my ass
*chorus*
song performed by by Garth Brooks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Apology Written For My Son To The Reverend Mr. Sampson,
With Joy your Summons we obey,
And come to celebrate this Day.
Yet I, alas! despair to please;
For you require exalted Lays:
And, let me write whate'er I will,
You'll think my Verse deficient still;
Altho' the Task I now decline,
Asks no Assistance from the Nine;
For Nature, better far than Art,
Can paint the honest, grateful Heart.
Heav'n knows how much I rack'd my Head,
(For beaten Paths I scorn to tread)
To tell the Vice--Roy something new,
Who graciously distinguish'd you;
Who had your Merit in his Eye,
When Prelates often pass'd it by.
What Blessings must the People share,
Where Virtue is the Ruler's Care!
Some Lines I wrote; which seem'd so fine,
My Mother cry'd, ``They can't be thine:
(Alas! there needs but little Care
In Sons, to please a Mother's Ear)
``Maro might own such Lines as these,
``Nor with more Elegance could praise:
``This is the true poetic Fire:
``But such a Subject must inspire:
``What beauteous Images are here!
``Constantia help'd you now, I fear:
``It must be so; you are not able--
Then I by Chance upon the Table
The Birth of manly Virtue spy'd;
So threw my useless Pen aside.
And set my Verses in a Flame,
Nor dar'd to touch the hallow'd Theme:
For there the God his Pow'r displays,
And leaves no Room for mortal Praise.
poem by Mary Barber
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Hall Of Mirrors
The young man stepped into the hall of mirrors
Where he discovered a reflection of himself
Even the greatest stars discover themselves in the looking glass
Even the greatest stars discover themselves in the looking glass
Sometimes he saw his real face
And sometimes a stranger at his place
Even the greatest stars find their face in the looking glass
Even the greatest stars find their face in the looking glass
He fell in love with the image of himself
and suddenly the picture was distorted
Even the greatest stars dislike themselves in the looking glass
Even the greatest stars dislike themselves in the looking glass
He made up the person he wanted to be
And changed into a new personality
Even the greatest stars change themselves in the looking glass
Even the greatest stars change themselves in the looking glass
The artist is living in the mirror
With the echoes of himself
Even the greatest stars live their lives in the looking glass
Even the greatest stars live their lives in the looking glass
Even the greatest stars fix their face in the looking glass
Even the greatest stars fix their face in the looking glass
Even the greatest stars live their lives in the looking glass
Even the greatest stars live their lives in the looking glass
song performed by by Kraftwerk
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ad Comitissam Rutlandiæ
Madam, so may my verses pleasing be,
So may you laugh at them and not at me,
'Tis something to you gladly I would say;
But how to do't I cannot find the way.
I would avoid the common beaten ways
To women used, which are love or praise:
As for the first, the little wit I have
Is not yet grown so near unto the grave,
But that I can, by that dim fading light,
Perceive of what, or unto whom I write.
Let such as in a hopeless, witless rage,
Can sigh a quire, and read it to a page;
Such is do backs of books and windows fill,
With their too furious diamond or quill;
Such as were well resolved to end their days
With a loud laughter blown beyond the seas;
Who are so mortified that they can live
Contemned of all the world, and yet forgive,
Write love to you: I would not willingly
Be pointed at in every company;
As was that little tailor, who till death
Was hot in love with Queen Elizabeth:
And, for the last, in all my idle days
I never yet did living woman praise
In prose or verse: and when I do begin
I'll pick some woman out as full of sin
As you are full of virtue; with a soul
As black as you are white; a face as foul
As you are beautiful: for it shall be
Out of the rules of physiognomy
So far, that I do fear I must displace
The art a little, to let in her face.
It shall att least four faces be below
The devil's; and her parched corpse shall show
In her loose skill as if some sprite she were
Kept in a bag by some great conjurer.
Her breath shall be as horrible and wild
As every word you speak is sweet and mild;
It shall be such a one as will not be
Covered with any art or policy:
But let her take all powders, fumes, and drink,
She shall make nothing but a dearer stink;
She shall have such a foot and such a nose,
She shall not stand in anything but prose;
If I bestow my praises upon such,
'Tis charity, and I shall merit much.
My praise will come to her like a full bowl,
Bestowed at most need on a thirsty soul;
Where, if I sing your praises in my rhyme,
I lose my ink, my paper, and my time;
And nothing add to your o'erflowing store,
And tell you nought, but what you knew before.
Nor do the virtuous-minded (which I swear,
Madam, I think you are) endure to hear
Their own perfections into questions brought,
But stop their ears at them; for if I thought
You took a pride to have your virtues known,
Pardon me, madam, I should think them none.
To what a length is this strange letter grown,
In seeking of a subject, yet finds none!
But your brave thoughts, which I so much respect
Above your glorious titles, shall accept
These harsh disordered lines. I shall ere long
Dress up your virtues new, in a new song;
Yet far from all base praise and flattery,
Although I know whate'er my verses be,
They will like the most servile flattery shew,
If I write truth, and make the subject you.
poem by Francis Beaumont
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Broken Glass
Life is like glass in so many ways.
Keep it shiny and unbroken all through the days.
Glass can be new.
Glass can be old.
It doesn't matter whats told.
Every piece of glass can shine like gold.
Sometimes glass is shiny.
Some can be plain.
It's all-unique show your true style.
You have nothing to lose and all to gain.
Enjoy the sparkle of the glass because once its broken you can never piece it back.
poem by Francesca Marie
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To Mrs. Frances--Arabella Kelly.
To Day, as at my Glass I stood,
To set my Head--cloaths, and my Hood;
I saw my grizzled Locks with Dread,
And call'd to mind the Gorgon's Head.
Thought I, whate'er the Poets say,
Medusa's Hair was only gray:
Tho' Ovid, who the Story told,
Was too well--bred to call her old;
But, what amounted to the same,
He made her an immortal Dame.
Yet now, whene'er a Matron sage
Hath felt the rugged Hand of Age,
You hear out witty Coxcombs cry,
Rot that old Witch--she'll never die.
Tho', had they but a little Reading,
Ovid would teach them better Breeding.
I fancy now, I hear you say,
Grant Heav'n, my Locks may ne'er be gray!
Why am I told this frightful Story?
To Beauty a Memento mori.
And, as along the Room you pass,
Casting your Eye upon the Glass,
Surely, say you, this lovely Face
Will never suffer such Disgrace:
The Bloom, that on my Cheek appears,
Will never be impair'd by Years.
Her Envy, now, I plainly see,
Makes her inscribe those Lines to me.
These Beldams, who were born before me,
Are griev'd to see the Men adore me:
Their snaky Locks freeze up the Blood;
My Tresses fire the purple Flood.
Unnumber'd Slaves around me wait,
And from my Eyes expect their Fate:
I own, of Conquest I am vain,
Tho' I despise the Slaves I gain.
Heav'n gave me Charms, and destin'd me
For universal Tyranny.
poem by Mary Barber
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I write a lot, and very often I write a couple of lines that are particularly revealing in some kind of way. And then as a few more lines get added and a piece gets added, eventually the song pretty much takes over and you can't really find a way to change those things.
quote by Nick Cave
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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When the Light Appears
You'll bare your bones you'll grow you'll pray you'll only know
When the light appears, boy, when the light appears
You'll sing & you'll love you'll praise blue heavens above
When the light appears, boy, when the light appears
You'll whimper & you'll cry you'll get yourself sick and sigh
You'll sleep & you'll dream you'll only know what you mean
When the light appears, boy, when the light appears
You'll come & you'll go, you'll wander to and fro
You'll go home in despair you'll wonder why'd you care
You'll stammer & you'll lie you'll ask everybody why
You'll cough and you'll pout you'll kick your toe with gout
You'll jump you'll shout you'll knock you're friends about
You'll bawl and you'll deny & announce your eyes are dry
You'll roll and you'll rock you'll show your big hard cock
You'll love and you'll grieve & one day you'll come believe
As you whistle & you smile the lord made you worthwhile
You'll preach and you'll glide on the pulpit in your pride
Sneak & slide across the stage like a river in high tide
You'll come fast or come on slow just the same you'll never know
When the light appears, boy, when the light appears
poem by Allen Ginsberg
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from C.A.
bloomingbirds fall from this tree
where flower seasons pass
sweetlip & petalwing now
slain upon the grass
frost & glass
frost & broken glass
barefoot on the splinters of your heart
of frost & glass
loveblind & rippingyarns
a-slither on the vine
Snowking, with your thorny eyes
my happiness conspires
frost & glass
frost & broken glass
barefoot on the splinters of your heart
of frost & glass
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Glass Shatters
The glass has a flimsiness, frailty of course,
Do not deceive me with fraudulence or fraud.
Glass shatters from impulses,
Glass has love for the actions,
This glass I hold and dropp reminds.
The frantic wept, as no other weeper,
The fraternity has evaporated,
Never the escapade of shattering glass
Has gone by without returning,
And so the glass has an escapade.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Breath Upon The Looking Glass
My breath expressed
Upon the looking glass
A living veil
Composed of gas
Eyes kept without
Breath held within
A visual shout
A ghastly grin
That fades away
As does the breath
As sure and certain
As life and death
The looking glass
Now free of mist
Lays bare my soul
And doing so insists
That I observe
The exposed nerve
That in said glass
Persists
I hastily breath anew
On said looking glass
To renew said veil
of living gas
Then Hie away
Before it fades
And draws me fast (and forever)
Into the looking glass
poem by David Whalen
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Sonnet XLII: Some Men There Be
Some men there be which like my method well
And much commend the strangeness of my vein;
Some say I have a passing pleasing strain;
Some say that im my humor I excel;
Some, who not kindly relish my conceit,
They say, as poets do, I use to feign,
And in bare words paint out my passion's pain.
Thus sundry men their sundry words repeat;
I pass not, I, how men affected be,
Nor who commends or discommends my verse;
It pleaseth me, if I my woes rehearse,
And in my lines if she my love may see.
Only my comfort still consists in this,
Writing her praise I cannot write amiss.
poem by Michael Drayton
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Upon The Hour Glass
This glass, when made, was, by the workman's skill,
The sum of sixty minutes to fulfil.
Time, more nor less, by it will out be spun,
But just an hour, and then the glass is run.
Man's life we will compare unto this glass,
The number of his months he cannot pass;
But when he has accomplished his day,
He, like a vapour, vanisheth away.
poem by John Bunyan
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Etcetera....
i am seeing what you do not see
they are not invisible, they are real, subject always
to more doubtful
and debatable interpretations
which i think you better not see
because it demeans me
and then i begin to write
this poem, something that you may not like
to understand but just the same
it is here with a lot of doubtful validity,
must this be a poem still? plain word getting into a prelude
of a convoluted thinking failing to give more
landscapes of colors and lines
plain straight lines
like a road, a very long road that you have been walking
all throughout your life
and asking if this is worth the day's troubles
what i see here may demean you too
it has demeaned me
many times in the past and perhaps in the coming days, years,
but i am always seeing it
because it makes me alive
my life worth living,
at times i think that i am a very sinful man
but i raise my eyes to God thanking him that he still makes me live
this sinful life
those that understand me have always been misunderstood too
a sympathizer to sinners
but being misunderstood is a fact
it is human
and i am glad that you are here too
supporting cast
to this human drama
this humanity that screams at times
and then so silent in the sleep
because the soul is too tired
coping up with the mistakes of the body
etcetera....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Lemonade
All I want for breakfast-Each and every day-Is one tall glass of lemonade-To start me on my day-(verse #2) -When lunchtime rolls around-My energy's getting low-One tall glass of lemonade -Will keep me on the go (verse#3) When I sit down for dinner-I have no appetite-But one tall glass of lemonade-Will start my evening right.
poem by Joy Thacker
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Glass Theme (live 10-04-99)
shattering fast
i'm glass, i'm glass
i'm shattering fast
i'm glass, i'm glass
i'm shattering, shattering
glass, glass, glass
i'm shattering fast
i'm glass, i'm glass
i've got a lot of tears
in a blood-stained jar
it's been a real long time
since i walked the fine line
you put up the walls
you put up the walls
hold all my calls
i'll be by the pool
won't you please
worship me
won't you love
what i adore
all alone
in my soul
i betrayed
rock and roll
rock and roll
rock and roll
rock and roll
rock and roll
everybody knows i'm last, i'm last
and everybody knows i'm fast, i'm fast
i'm shattering, shattering
glass, glass, glass
i'm shattering fast
i'm glass, i'm glass
you put up the walls
hold all my calls
'cause i'll be by the pool
playing with my guns
'cause there's nowhere to run
'cause i'm the one you love now
staying after school
breaking all your rules
shattering fast
shattering glass
shattering glass
i'm shattering glass
song performed by by Smashing Pumpkins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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