Hide My Worth
Language belies hidden value laboring
this tongue swollen in your valley of the mist.
Accomplishments unfold, sweet leafy mint,
peaked coalescing firmament, mountain dew.
Dropped from great heights your eye follows
masked gracious favor, humbled both cheeks.
Granting thus thine worth unto a beating heart
For Jack and Jill live, walled in humor now.
Blemish not a countenanced look, from you, 'it is.
imprisoned was the thorn and passion flame risen.
poem by Is It Poetry
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Related quotes
Lament
Where are those dazzling hills touched by the sun,
Those crags in childhood that I used to climb?
Hidden, hidden under mist is yonder mountain,
Hidden is the heart.
A day of cloud, a lifetime falls between,
Gone are the heather moors and the pure stream,
Gone are the rocky places and the green,
Hidden, hidden under sorrow is yonder mountain,
Hidden, hidden.
O storm and gale of tears, whose blinding screen
Makes weather of grief, snow's drifting curtain
Palls th'immortal heights once seen.
Hidden, hidden is the heart,
Hidden, hidden is the heart.
poem by Kathleen Jessie Raine
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Jack And Jill
this is not the usual story of Jack and Jill,
this is reality
welcome. Jack married Jill
in 1985
the first year was bliss
until the second year
when Jack
was so pressured
in his work
and Jill who was left at
home
got so bored with nothing
to do
except to listen
to Jack's shifting
towards the corners
of insanity
and then one day
Jill cooked Chinese noddles
for their wedding anniversary
which of course
she did not recall
but Jack still had it vivid
in his mind
the expensive wedding gown
the diamond ring
and flashy car
and the well attended
grand reception
Jack went wild
and throw the hot noddles
in Jill's face
Jill went to the U.S.
married a white man
Jack finally landed
in a mental asylum
The house where they once
lived
got burned
nothing remained
except the vacant lot
foreclosed by
the bank
sad
Jack and Jill
did not live happily everafter
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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An outlet
The deep within calls unto deep;
Yet, I am imprisoned by my vows.
Passion burns; my plight, not to let the flame die!
Fear of subdued tolerance; acceptance of Apathy!
My heart imprisoned by I do.
The depth of desire cannot die
Passion so deep; love other worldly
The outlet, I cry?
poem by Mahfooz Ali
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An Irreverent Look At Some Favorite Nursery Rhymes
Hickory dickory dock
I'd run around the block
For just one kiss
Oh my, what bliss!
Hickory dickory dock
JACK BE NIMBLE
Jack be nimble
Jack be quick
Jack jumped over
The candlestick
He burned his butt
The lad's a nut
Now he cannot sit
MARY MARY QUITE CONTRARY
Mary, Mary
Quite contrary
Whats your garden grow?
"A row of tulips,
And one magic rose,
Guarded by a fairy"
HUMPTY DUMPTY
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall;
(Dejected)
After his cell dropped her call
AT&T, with all its repair men,
Couldn't connect Humpty Dumpty again
LITTLE BO PEEP
Little Bo Peep lost all her sheep,
And didn't know where to find them
She left 'em alone,
hoping they'd come home;
But finally gave up at 7: 00 a.m.
JACK N' JILL
Jack n' Jill went up the hill
To fetch a six pack of beer
Jill fell down,
"You tripped me you clown"
"So much for sex later my dear"
ROTMS
View ROTMS writings, images and video at;
rotms.blogspot.com
poem by Ray Lucero
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There Is No Way That You Can Look At The Mountain
Mountain high
say Hi
To its silent heights
To its deep forest
To its hidden treasures
To its undiscovered wild orchids
Say Hi
To the mountain High
That is the only way to be There
And then You
Start the Climb
Looking inside your Feet
Then Focus up to the nearest Cloud
Through the Fog
and Mist
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sestina: Here in Katmandu
We have climbed the mountain.
There's nothing more to do.
It is terrible to come down
To the valley
Where, amidst many flowers,
One thinks of snow,
As formerly, amidst snow,
Climbing the mountain,
One thought of flowers,
Tremulous, ruddy with dew,
In the valley.
One caught their scent coming down.
It is difficult to adjust, once down,
To the absense of snow.
Clear days, from the valley,
One looks up at the mountain.
What else is there to do?
Prayer wheels, flowers!
Let the flowers
Fade, the prayer wheels run down.
What have they to do
With us who have stood atop the snow
Atop the mountain,
Flags seen from the valley?
It might be possible to live in the valley,
To bury oneself among flowers,
If one could forget the mountain,
How, never once looking down,
Stiff, blinded with snow,
One knew what to do.
Meanwhile it is not easy here in Katmandu,
Especially when to the valley
That wind which means snow
Elsewhere, but here means flowers,
Comes down,
As soon it must, from the mountain.
poem by Donald Justice
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Two Hearts Beating As One
Magical moments of pure sweet passion
Flutters within my hearts devotion
Two hearts beating they know it's just right
The beat grows stronger then fades in the night.
Hungry for your heart beating with mine
Longing to be with you all the time
The miracle of the beat drawing us closer
Two hearts beating within one another.
You saved me a place within your heart
Letting me stay never to part
Two hearts beating strong and true
Two hearts beating as one, not two.
poem by Hazel Connelly
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Sweet Smell Of Love
I was born anked into this world and i live in the valley of love,
You were born aromantic and you live in the valley of romance;
So come and let is share the sweet sense of love.
I am a woman with the matured breasts like sweet apples,
And your passion of love is like the sweet honey;
So come and let us join our nakedness together on this love,
Come and swimm in this red sea of mine all day.
For this sweert sense of love needs only you to be around with me,
Come and let your honey flow to me like the sweet milk of love;
For you are all tha t it takes to make me feel all right.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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And I Am An Idiot, Right?
Seven years after they fell from the hill,
In a live-in relation were Jack and Jill.
They had found themselves a graduate course,
Jill was this learning's driving force.
So one fine day, back from the institute,
She said 'listen jack, i don't wanna talk to you'.
Of such an experience was jack destitute,
and so he asked 'can you tell me, what i did do? '
'No' she said, 'go find out if you want'.
'If you don't tell me baby, I sincerely can't'.
I don't care about that, she said, twitching her lips,
Clueless and insane he, already missing her hips.
'Don't touch me jack, you don't like me anymore',
Whats come to this woman he thought.
In the next two days, things got so sour,
that they did not even share the damned cot.
A week went by and he gets a call,
'How are you jack, my baby doll'.
Exclamation marks popped up his mind,
Why is this bitch acting so kind?
She wanted him to help with her Labor law work,
and he felt like the labor himself, just another clerk.
She thanked him as if nothing had happened,
What bloody character sketch, for women had god penned?
and then it was, 'come on jack lets make the bed'.
hey what happened to the big fight?
Definitely love, am coming in a minute, he said,
and thought 'and I am an idiot right? '
poem by Krish King Nishanth
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Before independence
BEFORE INDEPENDENCE
Centuries of suffering
Decades of slavery
In the hands of the nasara
We are abundant waste
So abandon our skin was
But yet that freedom and country
Was still our legal right
Our love, happiness and freedom
Was locked and sealed
And thrown away into a deep dark sea
That pride and power was owned by them
Our great parent were all eyes
Traded and beating like goods and slave
Treated like unwanted parts
But yet time was their patient
Our precious charcoal skin
Who can bear more than that?
And live stronger than them
Our homes have become into grave yards
For such that the sun hasn’t risen
But one gracious and remarkable day
Our dearest patient of independent
Our dripping tears was to be upheld
Our new dawn has unfolded
A new sunrise has risen
A new life and beginning
Has just begun
My freedom
Your freedom
Our freedom
poem by Jamila.i. Bello girei
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Mankind are apt to be strongly prejudiced in favor of whatever is countenanced by antiquity, enforced by authority, and recommended by custom.
quote by Robert Hall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Great Fires
Love is apart from all things.
Desire and excitement are nothing beside it.
It is not the body that finds love.
What leads us there is the body.
What is not love provokes it.
What is not love quenches it.
Love lays hold of everything we know.
The passions which are called love
also change everything to a newness
at first. Passion is clearly the path
but does not bring us to love.
It opens the castle of our spirit
so that we might find the love which is
a mystery hidden there.
Love is one of many great fires.
Passion is a fire made of many woods,
each of which gives off its special odor
so we can know the many kinds
that are not love. Passion is the paper
and twigs that kindle the flames
but cannot sustain them. Desire perishes
because it tries to be love.
Love is eaten away by appetite.
Love does not last, but it is different
from the passions that do not last.
Love lasts by not lasting.
Isaiah said each man walks in his own fire
for his sins. Love allows us to walk
in the sweet music of our particular heart.
poem by Jack Gilbert
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To Erika Lie
When Norse nature's dower
Tones will paint with power,
There is more than mountain-heights that tower,-
Plains spread wide-extending,
Whereon at their wending
Summer nights soft dews are sending.
Forests great are growing,
And in long waves going
Glommen's valley fill to overflowing,-
There are green slopes vernal,
Glad with joy fraternal,
Open to the light supernal.
For revealing wholly
All things fine and holy-
As in sunshine birds are soaring slowly,
Or, their spells transmitting,
Northern Lights are flitting,-
None but maiden-hands are fitting.
Your
hands came, and playing,
O'er their secrets straying
Picture after picture are portraying,
As the poet dreamed them,
In soul-travail teemed them,
Till your artist hands redeemed them.
Now their light far-flinging
We see flashing, swinging,
Sparks as from your father's humor springing;
Now there meets us nigher,
Mirroring the higher,
Mother's eye of softer fire.
Child-heart tones are holding
All our minds and molding,
So its faith the wide world is enfolding,
While your sweet sounds sally,
Truth to tell and rally,
Maiden blonde from Glommen's valley.
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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That Has Yet To Happen
Do me a favor.
'Sure.
I'm here for you.'
Don't do me anymore favors.
That's the favor I am requesting.
Everytime you have been here for me,
Why is it I have to remind you...
Of a favor you promised to do,
That has yet to happen?
'So what are you saying?
The excuses I used,
Were not good enough for you?
And I went out of my way,
To choose the best ones I could?
Well...
You don't have to worry about me,
Ever doing you a favor again.
People like you are not worth my time.
And are so ungrateful.'
I know.
It's difficult for me,
To not think of myself all the time.
'I'm glad you can see how selfish you can be.'
I'm reminded.
'Good.
It's not all about you,
You know.
I have a life to live too.'
I'm reminded.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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An Ode
WHAT boots it to be great?
To live in royal state
And feast with kings,
Since now all things
One doom await?
5
What boots it to be fair?
Sweet eyes and golden hair,
And youthful bloom,
Since in the tomb
All foulness there?
10
To live in royal state—
That is not to be great;
Sweet eyes and golden hair—
That is not to be fair.
What is it to be great?
15
Content with thine estate;
To serve thy God and King
In everything—
That is it to be great.
What is it to be fair?
20
Sweet modesty to wear;
To keep thine honour sure,
Thy bosom pure—
That is it to be fair.
Much boots it to be great,
25
Much boots it to be fair.
poem by Frederick George Scott
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Sweet Horn
WHAT is St. Francis' flower? 'T is not
The daisy nor the melilot,
Nor that white little flower that springs
In Grasmere's quiet garden-plot.
'T is not the lily-flower that blows
In some high heaven of repose.
'T is not the sorrow of the thorn,
Nor utter passion of the rose.
It is the wild-heart eglantine,
(Sweet bush to a far sweeter wine),
With joy for man, sweet-thorn for Christ,
Not pagan all, not all divine.
poem by Philip Henry Savage
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Morning Humor
Slippery jack, no more turning back,
All around, morning humor
I am a waiter and I am a server
Ill run to your needs with strength and fervor
In times when you are wasted I will walk in
Through the door, pick you from the floor
Then watch you grow into a man
With a big burly beard
And a mustache to match
Ill watch you love the world
And all that it has...
With that morning humor,
Morning humor
The kind that wakes you up
The kind thats in my blood
Morning humor, morning humor, yeah...
I am on top again, soon to be low again
Oh will this ever end?
Im sorry I dont mean to sound like a whale
Trapped in the ice, but aint it nice to say exactly
What I please...
With a big toney voice or a
Soft mellow voice or the
Loud boisterous voice of an opera, opera lady!
With that morning humor,
Morning humor
The kind that wakes you up.
The kind thats in my blood
Morning humor, morning humor, yeah...
But the joke that kills
Is just a joke to you
You need some...
Slippery jack, no more turning back,
All around, morning humor
The kind that wakes you up
The kind thats in my blood...
Morning humor...
song performed by by Live
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Best Music
Smelling sweet
Heart beating sweeter
Souls dance the sweetest
Breathings cool and heavier
Energetic bodies become lighter
Ocean deep eyes look brighter
In the swollen veins blood runs faster
Excitement buttons explode together
Swaying with rhythm
Writhing, passion un- fathom
Regular intervals thrilling fantastic
Mysterious melody mystic music.
poem by Abdul Wahab
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The Bliss Of Ignorance
When Jack took Nell into his arms
He knew he acted ill,
And thought as he enjoyed her charms
Of his fiancée Jill.
"Poor dear," he sighed, "she dreams of me,
I shouldn't act like this;
But after all, she cannot see,
And ignorance is bliss."
Yet Jill at that same moment was
In Fred's embrace close caught,
And just a little sad because
Of sweetheart Jack she thought.
"Poor dear," she sighed, "he loves me so,
And what's a little kiss?
Or two or three - he'll never know,
And ignorance is bliss."
Now in fond wedlock all is well,
Though in their nuptial bed,
Jack's thought will sometimes stray to Nell,
And Jill's to handsome Fred.
Yet though in fancy they may flirt,
There's nothing much amiss:
What they don't know will never hurt -
Aye, Ignorance Is Bliss.
poem by Robert William Service
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I Could Not Love You
There're a billion people in the world
All of them equal but of different worth
I find you to have a value equaled by no other
You are a rare and beautiful flower
But I'm sorry that I could not favor you
And make you the queen of my heart as I should
That instead I chose a different group
And I chose to favor them more than you
To favor a person means that you are two
And I'm sorry that I could not be with you
And a favored another one more fair
Although you are a true queens heir
And amongst a million kings and princesses
You always claimed that you were the fairest
And though your heart is the kindest I knew
I apologies that I could not favor you
And instead I chose to favor another
Not your equal, but not your better
I see a million faces each day but only acquaint with a few
You and I went different ways so I could not favor you
You and I once had our chance but I chose to let it go
You had no fault at all as I made the choice alone
And instead I chose to look for another
And I did favor them more than you
Although in my eyes you are a flower
I'm sorry that I could not be with you
And value you as a queen like I should
But just as I favored another more than you
Another favors you more than any other
And chose to be with you and no-other
poem by Hafeni Nghidinua
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