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Scars Have Past
Every day you see your Scars,
The scars that define your past,
The scars that define what you are,
The scars that will interfere with your future,
Minds are deluded but
Not from beginning
Ignorance makes it, however
Essences of mind is crystal pure.
I have had dreams, I have set goals
Ive achieved some, had some dislodged and yet to achieve many.
I believe in myself, I believe in others
I know I’m not perfect, I don’t expect others to be either
Lost Ln My Loneliness
loneliness, oh loneliness,
There is one word I want to say
But who to listen to me is my problem.
People say I have nothing important to say
Life Is A Circus
A young lad blossoms from a petal,
Many challenges to come and yet to settle.
Here begins life's crazy circus,
To be happy but yet sometimes serious.
My family is where my heart is
I’ll do everything to keep them at ease
Their sweet smile can make my day
To be calm and to be lovely
Mary Joy Antiola
He brought me his report card from the teacher and he said
He wasn't very proud of it and sadly bowed his head.
He was excellent in reading, but arithmetic, was fair,
And I noticed there were several 'unsatisfactorys' there;
Edgar Albert Guest
With All Thy Gifts, America
With all thy gifts, America,
(Standing secure, rapidly tending, overlooking the world,)
Power, wealth, extent, vouchsafed to thee, With these, and like of these, vouchsafed to thee,
What if one gift thou lackest? (the ultimate human problem never solving;)
my grandmother had a serious gas
we only saw her on Sunday.
she'd sit down to dinner
I'm in a plane that will not be flown into a building.
It's a SAAB 340, seats 40, has two engines with propellers
is why I think of beanies, those hats that would spin
a young head into the clouds. The plane is red and loud
Four Quartets 3: The Dry Salvages
(The Dry Salvages-presumably les trois sauvages
- is a small group of rocks, with a beacon, off the N.E.
coast of Cape Ann, Massachusetts. Salvages is pronounced
to rhyme with assuages. Groaner: a whistling buoy.)
T. S. Eliot
I broke into the bank on Sunday,
You should see the money I got.
I couldn't drag it home 'til Monday,
'Cause it sure weighed an awful lot.
“O Trade! O Trade! would thou wert dead!
The Time needs heart-'tis tired of head:
We're all for love,” the violins said.
“Of what avail the rigorous tale
The sun is high, the seaside air is sharp,
And salty light reveals the Mayan School.
The Irish hope their names are on the harp,
We see the sheep's advertisement for wool,
Kar Paunga Ya Nhi
Kar paunga ya nhi
Socha bahut par dar lagta hai
Ki kar paunga ya nhi
Aashaye bahut hai par dar lagta hai
It's strange, isn't it?
No real feeling, no real....presence.
You're around loved ones,
I remember the first time i saw her.
Those brown eyes, beautiful nose and smile.
She caught my attention,
Quickly, something inside me wanted to talk to her.
Upon a time, before the faery broods
Drove Nymph and Satyr from the prosperous woods,
With the waves, it moves
With the seasons it changes
With my smile, it fades
With my time it leaves
A pote is sure a goofy guy;
He ain't got guts like you or I
To tell the score;
He ain't goy gumption 'nuff to know
The Death Of Euclid
[”Euclid, we are told, is at last dead, after two thousand
years of an immortality that he never much
deserved.”-The Times Literary Supplement.]
R. C. Lehmann
Stars Over The Dordogne
Stars are dropping thick as stones into the twiggy
Picket of trees whose silhouette is darker
Than the dark of the sky because it is quite starless.
The woods are a well. The stars drop silently.
Here is a problem, a wonder for all to see.
Look at this marvelous thing I hold in my hand!
This is a magic surprising, a mystery
Strange as a miracle, harder to understand.
The Broken Drum
There is sorrow in the household;
There's a grief too hard to bear;
There's a little cheek that's tear-stained
There's a sobbing baby there.
Edgar Albert Guest
What We Need
We were settin' there an' smokin' of our pipes, discussin' things,
Like licker, votes for wimmin, an' the totterin'thrones o' kings,
When he ups an' strokes his whiskers with his hand an' says t'me:
'Changin' laws an' legislatures ain't, as fur as I can see,
Edgar Albert Guest
In due course of course you will all be issued with
Your proper issue; but until tomorrow,
You can hardly be said to need it; and until that time,
We shall have unarmed combat. I shall teach you.
I might as well begin by saying how much I like the title.
It gets me right away because I'm in a workshop now
so immediately the poem has my attention,
like the Ancient Mariner grabbing me by the sleeve.
The Laws Of Motion
The laws of science teach us a pound of gold weighs as
much as a pound of flour though if dropped from any
undetermined height in their natural state one would
reach bottom and one would fly away
Let's Stop Discrimination
it has been more than five decades since we got our liberial government!
We have come so far as a nation,
But there is still a long way to go.
I can see the future is bright but somehow my vision is blurry.
Poems - The New Edition - Preface
In two small volumes of Poems, published anonymously, one in 1849, the other in 1852, many of the Poems which compose the present volume have already appeared. The rest are now published for the first time.
I have, in the present collection, omitted the Poem from which the volume published in 1852 took its title. I have done so, not because the subject of it was a Sicilian Greek born between two and three thousand years ago, although many persons would think this a sufficient reason. Neither have I done so because I had, in my own opinion, failed in the delineation which I intended to effect. I intended to delineate the feelings of one of the last of the Greek religious philosophers, one of the family of Orpheus and Musaeus, having survived his fellows, living on into a time when the habits of Greek thought and feeling had begun fast to change, character to dwindle, the influence of the Sophists to prevail. Into the feelings of a man so situated there entered much that we are accustomed to consider as exclusively modern; how much, the fragments of Empedocles himself which remain to us are sufficient at least to indicate. What those who are familiar only with the great monuments of early Greek genius suppose to be its exclusive characteristics, have disappeared; the calm, the cheerfulness, the disinterested objectivity have disappeared: the dialogue of the mind with itself has commenced; modern problems have presented themselves; we hear already the doubts, we witness the discouragement, of Hamlet and of Faust.
The Ballad Of How Macpherson Held The Floor
Said President MacConnachie to Treasurer MacCall:
“We ought to have a piper for our next Saint Andrew's Ball.
Yon squakin' saxophone gives me the syncopated gripes.
I'm sick of jazz, I want to hear the skirling of the pipes.”
The Cremona Violin: Part 05
It was no easy matter to convince
Heinrich that it was finished. Hard to say
That though they could not meet (he saw her wince)
She still must keep the locket to allay