The earth hums to me to-day in the sun, like a woman at her spinng, some ballad of the ancient time in a forgotten tongue.
aphorism by Rabindranath Tagore from Stray Birds (1916), translated by Rabindranath Tagore
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Dancing Socrates
I roast in the sun, old wretch...
I lie, and yawn, I stretch.
Old am I, but full of pep:
When I take a slug from the cup
I sing.
My ancient bones bask in the sun's glow,
And my curly, wise, grey head.
In that wise head, like woods in spring
Hums and hums a wiser wine.
Eternal thoughts flow and flow,
Like time.
poem by Julian Tuwim
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Sweet Hummings of the Sea
The heart of the sea hums
The love song that I never heard off.
I want to fill the silent nooks of my mountain
With these hummings of the sea.
Every dusk I fly down to the shores
To collect these sweet hums of the sea.
The whole night through
I fly back to my mountains
This flight with the hums of the sea in my heart
Gives me tremendous joy.
poem by Dr. Antony Theodore
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I Hear Voices...
And from the graves, where names were carved in
stone, came a mournful Ballad, of life gone by.
A Ballad sang by mothers, whose children left behind,
and left to sing their ballads, of tears that did remain.
And what of Fathers Ballad, whose job was not complete,
who died and sang his song, of things that could not be.
In a smaller voices, still weeping and confused, the children
sang their Ballad, of parents never knew.
And in some far off place, a Ballad did come fourth, of all
the deaths that happened, that wasn't meant to be.
A soldiers painful Ballad, did seemed so unjust, of the
war that finally killed him, in a land he never knew.
The Ballad, of unknown, thou human, none the less,
were buried here alone, with not a one to care.
In the quiet of a cemetery morn, the Ballad of
the dead, echoes silently across green grass,
and through the granite stones.
It makes one wonder, about the Ballad of the dead,
and what will be our song...when we are finally gone.
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part IV: Vita Nova: CII
THE VENUS OF MILO
What art thou? Woman? Goddess? Aphrodite?
Yet never such as thou from the cold foam
Of ocean, nor from cloudy heaven might come,
Who wast begotten on her bridal night
In passionate Earth's womb by Man's delight,
When Man was young. I cannot trace in thee
Time's handiwork. Say, rather, where is he
For whom thy face was red which is so white?
Thou standest ravished, broken, and thy face
Is writ with ancient passions. Thou art dumb
To my new love. Yet, whatsoe'er of good,
Of crime, of pride, of passion, or of grace
In woman is, thou, woman, hast in sum.
Earth's archetypal Eve. All Womanhood.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Blue Desert
hillocks molded ancient streams
(we stay on the trail)
at night blue is black
scorpions under the moon are not
i pick up one that curls
and stings me with old words
yelp and holler
the petrified woods ablaze
frozen in the flood of time
down some of those ancient streams
(they are dimly red)
holding clues to new life
and forgotten words
writing was always there
squeezed between flower and rock
and the men who came before us
saw the same hillocks
sharper in their time
touched the same poisons
hollered words forgotten
and dimly wondered about the past
poem by Stan Petrovich
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Ballad Of Nice & Easy
And so we ride on
The ballad of nice and easy
Young and carefree
We're coming along
The ballad of nice and easy
Young and carefree
Two of these kids grew up on the same street
And though some folks blow it, there's no smoke in their eyes
They're tying their dreams with doubled up laces
Falling, free falling, tangled up 'til they die
And so we ride on
The ballad of nice and easy
Young and carefree
We're coming along
The ballad of nice and easy
Young and carefree
'Cause everyone knows they'll get their hands dirty
Ripping at seams and smoking hot knives
But sooner or later there's an end to this candle
We'll burn it at both ends and switch on the lights
And so we ride on
The ballad of nice and easy
Young and carefree
We're coming along
The ballad of nice and easy
Young and carefree
And so we ride on
The ballad of nice and easy
Young and carefree
We're coming along
The ballad of nice and easy
Young and carefree
song performed by by Gomez
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Making Love To A Black Woman
How do you make love, to a Black Woman?
How do you make love to a Black Woman,
Romantically and Patiently;
Take the time to make love to her mind.
Fulfill all of her midnight wishes.
Cover her entire body with soft wet kisses.
Tell her, so that she will know!
There's no place on her body
your tongue won't go.
And, when you love a Black Woman,
you love her real slow.
How do you make love, to a Black Woman?
How do you make love to a Black Woman,
Passionately and Sincerely;
Let her Sweetness become your Weakness.
Do not use just the Penis, But include your ear.
Listen to the sweet sound of her moans
and see what you hear.
Feel the warmth and care of her loving embrace.
Place your mouth on hers and savor the taste.
How do you make love, to a Black Woman?
How do you make love to a Black Woman,
Sensually and Honestly;
Say what you mean and mean what you say.
Tell her that you love her,
more and more with each passing day.
Let all of the fantasies that dance in her head.
Become her moonlight reality
when it's time to go to bed.
Kiss and lick all over her body
until you find all her right spots.
Touch and caress her soft skin
and make her real hot.
Mutual satisfaction is a lover's plan.
Love her, cause you are in love with her.
She's your Woman and your her Man.
How do you make love, to a Black Woman?
How do you make love to a Black Woman,
Lovingly and completely;
Love her until her 'Screams of Passion'
are all you that hear.
Suck on her neck and stick
your tongue in her ear.
Hold her soft round ass
in the palm of your hands.
Let her sexual wishes
become your loving commands.
Love your Black Woman with
your Mind, Body and Soul.
She's the most precious gift on this Earth.
She's worth her weight in gold.
How do you make love to a Black Woman?
There's only one true way to start.
To make love to a Black Woman,
just give her your Heart.
poem by Samuel Newton
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Barefoot Ballad
(words & music by fuller - morris)
I want a barefoot ballad yes a barefoot ballad
Wont you play for me a down home country song
cause when I kick my shoes off and I kick my blues off
With a barefoot ballad you just cant go wrong
Give me a honk-tonk fiddle with a guitar in the middle and a melody
Humming like a fountain swinging out on smokey mountain
I want a barefoot ballad yes a barefoot ballad
Wont you play for me a down home country song
cause when I kick my shoes off and I kick my blues off
With a barefoot ballad you just cant go wrong
Now the big toes connected to the two toe
And the two toes connected to the three toe
And the three toes connected to the four toe
And the four toes connected to the five toe
And the five toe and away we go
I want a barefoot ballad yes a barefoot ballad
Wont you play for me a down home country song
cause when I kick my shoes off and I kick my blues off
With a barefoot ballad you just cant go wrong
Now the big toes connected to the two toe
And the two toes connected to the three toe
And the three toes connected to the four toe
And the four toes connected to the five toe
And the five toe and away we go
I wanna barefoot ballad yes a barefoot ballad
Wont you play for me a barefoot ballad song.
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Her Hidden Treasure
Her flame was only for the women –
Not for us unlucky men;
A weakness lay for feminine way:
To feel an even fairer skin
In silky slide.
Her lips were for the satin love that
Only flows from rising breast;
The creamy tan was not for man
To pull towards a chiselled chest
In weathered hide.
Her hidden treasure down below
Would shy away from macho length
And only rouse upon the blouse
Undone by other sapphic strength –
In time, inside!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman
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woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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For What Use Is Time
when the mouth has forgotten
the shape of a smile on the lips
when the tongue has forgotten
the sweet taste of love
when the body has buried the
memories of desire on the
graveyards of boring routines
when everything in us is nothing
but the rush the haste in meaningless
daily buses and bustling streets
for what use is time & space with us?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Gothic Ballad
I walk carelessly down the dark road
My heavy black boots constantly clicking
Clicking on the cold cement
My long black and velvet Trench coat
Billowing in the slight breeze
My Chest slightly rising under my tight corset
My chains on my pants jingling together
As I walk down this Moon lit road
Staring up at the midnight moon
This is the ballad
The ballad of the lost
Of the silent warriors
Of the people you pass by and call freaks
Of the people
Who will save your soul
For our souls are pure
Our souls sing this ballad
The ballad of the night
The ballad of the pure hearts
poem by Ankoku Gekido
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I Haven't Forgotten
I haven't forgotten when I meet you first!
I haven't forgotten when I greet you last!
I haven't forgotten your pretty face!
I haven't forgotten your smile and grace!
I haven't forgotten how we started chatting!
I haven't forgotten when we started dating!
I haven't forgotten our last walk together!
I haven't forgotten how I became a loser!
I haven't forgotten how it became too late!
I haven't forgotten when I understood fate!
I haven't forgotten that summer's northwester!
I haven't forgotten and won't forget ever!
poem by Asif Andalib
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Chauvinist
I’d never really comprehended such a mighty range of
Shapes and sizes down behind, it’s really rather strange:
The buttock muscle in a woman, overlaid with fat
Is actually such a focal point for men to want to pat
Or squeeze, and then to tease her if it’s eminently stout,
Or even risk a stay in clink to sting it with a clout!
After all, we men are tuned to be that way inclined –
And tho’ our needs are varied, girls, they’re all perverse of mind!
Best of all, our sacred dream: to see her shed her gown
When gliding to the shower for the ritual sponging down.
But then alas! With body lathered, oops! she drops the soap;
‘Please! ’ we beg her, ‘bend and bare! ’ But we can only hope!
I’m sure by now you get the picture – like a rule of thumb –
That men like me obsess all day about the fairer bum.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
My dreams are of a
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
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woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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When I Love
When I love
I feel that I am the king of time
I possess the earth and everything on it
and ride into the sun upon my horse.
When I love
I become liquid light
invisible to the eye
and the poems in my notebooks
become fields of mimosa and poppy.
When I love
the water gushes from my fingers
grass grows on my tongue
when I love
I become time outside all time.
When I love a woman
all the trees
run barefoot toward me…
poem by Nizar Qabbani
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Beautiful Noise
A mighty note hums and stirs in frequences
that could stagger Beethoven.
The delicate turn of paralysing phrases
weaving to and fro upon the conductor's page,
lifts the dumfound people to new horizions.
The celloist cuts his majestic bow,
shaking the ground beneath him.
The brave trumpet cries out in colour
that no artist could dream to dip in brush.
then the piano rumbles chaotically
in warm ballad fit for royalties pleasure.
poem by Adam Pergande
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The nicest talks about woman.......
The nicest talks about woman.......
The woman the society was divided in the middle, she breeds his another equity.
Commensurate with a love of the woman her revenge is.
The stupidest woman is capable of cheating the most intelligent man.
The woman maybe will pardon the treason but don't forget it.
a woman heart`s is a pearl needs a skilled hunter.
the more beautiful way to let the woman change her suggestion, is agree with her.
The satan the professeur of the man and the student of the woman.
The woman like the soft herbs the breeze bends in front of but he is not broken by the storm.
The honest woman makes you swallow, and intelligent she agitates your interest, and a beauty to attract you, and the softy wins you.
The woman is always afraid of the intelligent man who mocks her.
The woman will remain an unidentified riddle, while the man believes that he is being capable of his dissolution.
The woman smiles when she is victorious, and she cries when she wants
The woman remain in twentieth in her age, till the last moment in her life.
the woman learnt from the snake: The dancing.. The perfidy.. and long tongue.
The woman lights the fire by her smile, and she tries to extinguish her by her tears.
Not the woman who birth the children, a woman who make to grow them.
The woman without virtue, like a rose without a nice smell.
the last thing die in a man is his heart, and in a woman is her tongue.
The woman like the lyre gives her secret to who knows the playing on her.
The woman a satan whose manufacture is perfect...
and still more and more..
poem by Hazem Al Jaber
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Ballad Of The Black Slave
This is the ballad of the black slave,
Who has been beaten and disgraced,
Who has been called the n-word and negro,
Who has received no pay.
This is the ballad of the black slave,
Who prays for freedom every night,
Who is going to rebel,
For what he thinks is right.
Now this is the ballad of the freed slave,
Who has seen much blood shed,
Who has fought for equal rights,
And who has won his freedom.
poem by Michael Issac Palmer
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I Am' WOMAN ***series #5
'i am' woman.
'i am ' like the earth.
from me you take all the good.
i give you treasure
i give you pleasure
mans goal in life is to take my flower.
i will give you 'the time and hour'.
i will give you what you need to survive.
and i will tell you if you are mine.
'i am' woman.
and you seek me out in every location
for i can give you the greatest sensation.
' i am' woman
i can get you to love me
or to hate me
but! you will not forsake me.
you will do as i command
for i have you in my hand.
so as the earth, treat me with
kindness and respect
and i will let you taste the forbidden fruit
that you so desire
to quench that rising fire.
' i am ' WOMAN.
poem by Louis Rams
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The sweetest noise on earth, a woman's tongue; A string which hath no discord.
quote by Barry Cornwall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Battered Doll
A red dress for blood spilt,
Torn blouse for flesh rent;
Ladders in the stockings –
A rung for every callous blow landed.
Scuffed shoes winked about the kicks –
After all, bruise-gorged eyes can’t –
Just permanently closed.
Burning tears were scant warmth
Against a chill from ugly cries.
Lipstick smudges on the chin to
Nullify all vestiges of beauty –
Those that constituted rare patches
Of purest cream skin, from
Days of feminine joy, telling once
Upon a time there was an angel…
But now, a battered doll.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman
woman woman
Woman
No more...
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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