The Song of bangle seller
The Song of bangle seller
He sings in all nights to his crying son
to sleep with smile and to forget his mother
Though he is a poor bangle seller
his poem will be too high and luxury
There he compares his son as a prince of his empire and
he leaves his son with the angles to take care
Many plates of royal food will be waiting for him but
his prince Plays with them to his fun
His princess will be from that heaven and
She will bring moon and stars as her gift to that life
River from the Himalayas will come
to wash his palace and his dishes
Rain will shower milk to their bath and
Clouds will come to wipe his wet
Breeze will serve as his maiden to blow air
There his son will smile as Prince of the world
Sun will come and raise him from the bed and
Larks will play wakening notes to his wake up
There he stops his poem and goes
to have his own meal from his broken pot
He saw his sleeping son from that corner and
Pleasingly went to his bed with peace
poem by Sakthi Ravichandran
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Heinlein never had a best-seller. Even, I think, with Stranger in a Strange Land, I don't think it was actually on the New York Times best seller list.
quote by Jerry Pournelle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A horse and an ass
A buyer had a seller in a deal.
Each did it as that was the best.
To the buyer it was like a horse
And to the seller it was like an ass.
30.06.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Daily Guide
Daily guide,
A message from a tomato seller;
Daily guide,
A message from a plantain seller;
Nike, like, hike, mike, dike, bike, kike, pike!
And like the muse of sellers at 'Bosoma Market';
But there i met the products that i needed.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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New Dawn for Africa
Mother Africa
Mother of Plenty
Countable in number, countless in population
Crown with nature's endowment
Traded slavery trans Atlantic
Iron bangle Africa
Mother Africa
When will freedom engulf thee
Fifty three addition your mammalian gland
Tears never at all mama
Tears, tears not at all
Mother Africa, Mother Africa tears no more.
poem by Emmanuel Uchechukwu
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How Can I Make A Poem About Children?
let me begin with some diapers
to make a poem about children
let me add the lines of wetting
and crying
some more of the crying and
the hunger of the children
who have not mastered to use
the words to file their
complaint
let me put the images of thirst
a desert
a ricefield cracking without
the rain for months
let us see the cradle of the
child unable to sleep
because of the sound of
bursting guns and the
disagreements among
men always warshocked
warlike
let this poem be but a lullaby
let me put a smile
of a child rocked by the
arms of mother
now the child may sleep
in her warm bosom
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I'm Beginning To Forget You (1959)
I'm beginning to forget you
That old heartache is gone
I'm beginning to sleep at night
No more crying 'till dawn
I can hear your name mentioned
And it brings no misery
I'm beginnin to forget you
Like you forgot me
I'm beginning to smile again
After crying for so long
I can hear the tune we loved so well
And it's just another song
I'm so happy that it's over
I'm so thankful to be free
I'm beginnin to forget you
Like you forgot me
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Im Beginning To Forget You
(words & music by w. phelps)
Im beginning to forget you
That old heartache is gone
Im beginning to sleep at night
No more crying till dawn
I can hear your name mentioned
And it brings no misery
Im beginnin to forget you
Like you forgot me
Im beginning to smile again
After crying for so long
I can hear the tune we loved so well
And its just another song
Im so happy that its over
Im so thankful to be free
Im beginnin to forget you
Like you forgot me
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Great Show
The fish-seller is
Butchering fish in the street;
The poor children
Can only watch the great show
And get all enjoyment.
poem by Prof Niamat Ali Murtazai
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If She Does Not Come Back
I have been waiting for her since my last poem
Maybe she has been delayed by this crazy wind of hopelessness
Snowed in by a false smile of nostalgia
There she is. Wet and frozen with a tired step
Bowed down with regret she is coming back into my life
No, I was wrong
The sigh seller
Is coming back from her midnight shift
On the Square of Lost Love
I will invite her to get wam in
My heart's warm home
Or maybe I will not
My heart is full of trepidation and pain
And I cannot receive her hardship
It is better if I wait
For the one from my last poem
She always comes back
She is my stork and swallow
Return ticket to my life
But what if she does not come back
poem by Jankovic Zoran
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Norse lullaby
The sky is dark and the hills are white
As the storm-king speeds from the north to-night,
And this is the song the storm-king sings,
As over the world his cloak he flings:
"Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep;"
He rustles his wings and gruffly sings:
"Sleep, little one, sleep."
On yonder mountain-side a vine
Clings at the foot of a mother pine;
The tree bends over the trembling thing,
And only the vine can hear her sing:
"Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep;
What shall you fear when I am here?
Sleep, little one, sleep."
The king may sing in his bitter flight,
The tree may croon to the vine to-night,
But the little snowflake at my breast
Liketh the song I sing the best,--
Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep;
Weary thou art, anext my heart
Sleep, little one, sleep.
poem by Eugene Field
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Every Poem That Is Not Written
EVERY POEM THAT IS NOT WRITTEN
Every poem that is not written
Sings another poem
That is not read.
And every poem that is not read
Waits in its own silence
Until
The Universe itself
Becomes Poetry
And God sings to us
As if we too
The poet and the poem
Were the singer and the song
Unknown.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Soul sings other’s poem
Soul sings other’s poem
When you don’t write one
It sings as if it is a dawn
In a tune of silence
Undresses unaware of around
Echoes to the strokes
As if it is climax…
Sings a song of rape
Unless you write one of Union….
Soul sings other’s poem
poem by Free Birds
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Roses
a rose's softness
the first time
i touch your skin
neighbour's bouquet
of roses at the window
my long lost love
that jade bangle
it resonates with my heart
a sale is done
a crushed rose
on the street
young man's uneasiness in the office
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I am a seller, Arent you?
I am a seller
A seller of different kind
I sell my dreams
in lieu of better dreams
sometimes to 'time'
sometimes to 'fate'
And sometimes to 'reality'
I am a dream seller
Aren't you?
I am architect
an architect of different kind
I build my dreams
block by block
only to dismantle
sometimes because of 'time'
sometimes because of 'fate'
And sometimes because of 'reality'
I am arcitect
an architect of different kind
Aren't you?
I am a buyer
A buyer of different kind
I bargain for dreams
sometimes with 'time'
sometimes with 'fate'
And sometimes with 'reality'
I am buyer
A buyer of different kind
Aren't you?
Inspite of knowing
ultimately i will sell
I concieve dreams
Inspite of knowing
ultimately i will dismnatle
I build my dreams
Inspite of knowing
ultimately i will fail in bargainig
I bargain for my dreams
because
its better
to sell, dismantle or bargain for
my dreams
than end up
selling, dismaaintling or bargaining for
my soul
poem by Anjesh shekhar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The seller has one eye, the buyer, one hundred.
I'm not a best-seller, but through translations, I've accumulated some money.
quote by Manuel Puig
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Whether you were gold or satin, you're the same acanthus-seller.
The buyer needs a hundred eyes; the seller but one.
The buyer needs a hundred eyes, the seller but one.