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the splash of words
the hurl of metaphors
our minds in a whirl

haiku by Dónall Dempsey
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Splash

[intro]
Welcome into ecstasy baby
Oh yes, I got to know, can i
Splash, splash, splash
Baby I wanna jump and dive and splash in your love, yes
Can I splash in your love baby?
I used to be afraid of water till I got a lifejacket
Now I always seem to find myself
Laughing and splashing, oh yeah
Theres no waters that fall quite like yours
How I love to swim your sticky shores
Can I splash?
Can I take a dip, can I take a dip
Inside your love, I just wanna swim, baby let me swim
Let me come, I just wanna splash in your lake of love
Can I take a dip, can I take a dip
Inside your love, I just wanna swim, baby let me swim
Let me come, I just wanna splash in your lake of love
Can I splash?
As I used to play across you chocolate beaches
I would always vision your love canal
Dreaming I could reach it, oh yeah yeah
And as I wade in your waters of passionate cream
I realized, its not a dream
I can finally splash, I dont have ask, no
Can I take a dip, can I take a dip
Inside your love, I just wanna swim, baby let me swim
Let me come, I just wanna splash in your lake of love
Can I take a dip, can I take a dip
Inside your love, I just wanna swim, baby let me swim
Let me come, I just wanna splash in your lake of love
Ooh, let me dive inside your love
Can I splash inside just once
Let me go Ill make you come
Oh, let me just feel it
S is for sexual
P is for pleasure
L is for love me, cause baby you better
A is for anytime
S is for special
H is for happiness
Whenever were together
I splash, well baby give me the chance
To get in your pants
To make sure that you feel good
I wanna know, can I feel your love?
Splash, thinking I wanna sneak
That Im a sexual freak, you gotta meet
Come and see me baby
If you let me toss youll get it proper I know

[...] Read more

song performed by Next
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Splash

I called you on the phone
You knew it was me all along
You didn't even say hello
Cause you don't need words to let me know
All the things that you do to me
You fulfill my every fantasy
Splash - I'm under your power
Splash - I could go for hours
Splash - You could devour me
And I'd only want you more
Oh, when you make love to me
There's things I never thought I'd see
I cherish [...]
[...] in every sea
Oh, I love when you play with me
Ask your mom if you could stay with me
Splash - I'm under your power
Splash - I could go for hours
Splash - You could devour me
And I'd only want you more
Our love is a rhythm
Together we'll have so much fun
You go from room to room
Leaving traces of your sweet perfume
If I could I'd bottle it
Everybody should know the feelin' I get
When I'm in your cool embrace
Your lips, your arms, your legs, your face
Splash - I'm under your power
Splash - I could go for hours
Splash - You could devour me
And I'd only want you more
I want you more and more and more
Splash
Splash
Splash
Splash
Splash
Splash.

song performed by Prince
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Outlets

Splatter
Splash

A single droplet
Glistens

Splatter
Splash

It slowly runs
Down

Splatter
Splash

The gentle kiss of
Cool metal

Splatter
Splash

Nipping at the
Skin

Splatter
Splash

A network of
Webs

Splatter
Splash

A beautiful pattern
Turning red

Splatter
Splash

Hidden in the
Fabric

Splatter
Splash

Reinf orced
By the grin

Splatter
Splash

[...] Read more

poem by Autumn Winds
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Reminders

Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As word
s confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.Two different views, As words confuse and break. I can't get out, There's no way out of here,I can't get clear.

song performed by Feeder
Added by Lucian Velea
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36

a metaphor is easy to make
and so easy to recall

remember the cat's feet like a fog
leaving softly the harbor in the city?
remember a misery that jumps like a flea &
bites you and you cannot sleep
and you say life is like that
a flea

remember
you think of time as a growing child
a man,
a wild man running and chasing
virgins that must make most of their time
because
time is a-flying and
the rose that blooms today
tomorrow
may be dying

remember time in a bottle

remember life like a fruit fly trapped
trying to figure
out how to escape
and you say life is like that
a fruit fly

remember death
like a woman sleeping in her chambers
closing the curtains
and you say
death is like that
a mere closing of a curtain

just like that

remember how
loneliness is like a steel tunnel
you get in there,
some birds hover and fly away from you
you get in there,
and there seems to be no light visible
at the end

loneliness

life is like that

[...] Read more

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Metaphor Is Easy To Make

a metaphor is easy to make
and so easy to recall

remember the cat's feet like a fog
leaving softly the harbor in the city?
remember a misery that jumps like a flea &
bites you and you cannot sleep
and you say life is like that
a flea

remember
you think of time as a growing child
a man,
a wild man running and chasing
virgins that must make most of their time
because
time is a-flying and
the rose that blooms today
tomorrow
may be dying

remember time in a bottle

remember life like a fruit fly trapped
trying to figure
out how to escape
and you say life is like that
a fruit fly

remember death
like a woman sleeping in her chambers
closing the curtains
and you say
death is like that
a mere closing of a curtain

just like that

remember how
loneliness is like a steel tunnel
you get in there,
some birds hover and fly away from you
you get in there,
and there seems to be no light visible
at the end

loneliness

life is like that

[...] Read more

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Whirlwind

Orbison/dees
Youre the figure of a woman
Youre the mind of a child
A pretty whirlwind
You dont know just what youre doing
When you love me with your smile
A lovely whirlwind
A whirlwind of warm desire
Whirlwind, burning fire woman, realize
That the devil in disguise, is a whirlwind
Born to be running wild and free
Whirlwind
Born to make fools of guys like me
You pick me up like a whirlwind
You put me down like a whirlwind
Each time you touch me Im trouble-bound
Whirl,whirl,whirlwind, whirl,whirl,whirlwind
Whirl,whirl,whirlwind, whirl,whirl,whirlwind
Whirlwind

song performed by Roy Orbison
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Interpretation of Nature and

I.

MAN, being the servant and interpreter of Nature, can do and understand so much and so much only as he has observed in fact or in thought of the course of nature: beyond this he neither knows anything nor can do anything.


II.

Neither the naked hand nor the understanding left to itself can effect much. It is by instruments and helps that the work is done, which are as much wanted for the understanding as for the hand. And as the instruments of the hand either give motion or guide it, so the instruments of the mind supply either suggestions for the understanding or cautions.

III.

Human knowledge and human power meet in one; for where the cause is not known the effect cannot be produced. Nature to be commanded must be obeyed; and that which in contemplation is as the cause is in operation as the rule.

IV.

Towards the effecting of works, all that man can do is to put together or put asunder natural bodies. The rest is done by nature working within.

V.

The study of nature with a view to works is engaged in by the mechanic, the mathematician, the physician, the alchemist, and the magician; but by all (as things now are) with slight endeavour and scanty success.

VI.

It would be an unsound fancy and self-contradictory to expect that things which have never yet been done can be done except by means which have never yet been tried.

VII.

The productions of the mind and hand seem very numerous in books and manufactures. But all this variety lies in an exquisite subtlety and derivations from a few things already known; not in the number of axioms.

VIII.

Moreover the works already known are due to chance and experiment rather than to sciences; for the sciences we now possess are merely systems for the nice ordering and setting forth of things already invented; not methods of invention or directions for new works.

IX.

The cause and root of nearly all evils in the sciences is this -- that while we falsely admire and extol the powers of the human mind we neglect to seek for its true helps.

X.

The subtlety of nature is greater many times over than the subtlety of the senses and understanding; so that all those specious meditations, speculations, and glosses in which men indulge are quite from the purpose, only there is no one by to observe it.

XI.

As the sciences which we now have do not help us in finding out new works, so neither does the logic which we now have help us in finding out new sciences.

XII.

The logic now in use serves rather to fix and give stability to the errors which have their foundation in commonly received notions than to help the search after truth. So it does more harm than good.

XIII.

[...] Read more

poem by Sir Francis Bacon
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Book VI - Part 02 - Great Meteorological Phenomena, Etc

And so in first place, then
With thunder are shaken the blue deeps of heaven,
Because the ethereal clouds, scudding aloft,
Together clash, what time 'gainst one another
The winds are battling. For never a sound there come
From out the serene regions of the sky;
But wheresoever in a host more dense
The clouds foregather, thence more often comes
A crash with mighty rumbling. And, again,
Clouds cannot be of so condensed a frame
As stones and timbers, nor again so fine
As mists and flying smoke; for then perforce
They'd either fall, borne down by their brute weight,
Like stones, or, like the smoke, they'd powerless be
To keep their mass, or to retain within
Frore snows and storms of hail. And they give forth
O'er skiey levels of the spreading world
A sound on high, as linen-awning, stretched
O'er mighty theatres, gives forth at times
A cracking roar, when much 'tis beaten about
Betwixt the poles and cross-beams. Sometimes, too,
Asunder rent by wanton gusts, it raves
And imitates the tearing sound of sheets
Of paper- even this kind of noise thou mayst
In thunder hear- or sound as when winds whirl
With lashings and do buffet about in air
A hanging cloth and flying paper-sheets.
For sometimes, too, it chances that the clouds
Cannot together crash head-on, but rather
Move side-wise and with motions contrary
Graze each the other's body without speed,
From whence that dry sound grateth on our ears,
So long drawn-out, until the clouds have passed
From out their close positions.
And, again,
In following wise all things seem oft to quake
At shock of heavy thunder, and mightiest walls
Of the wide reaches of the upper world
There on the instant to have sprung apart,
Riven asunder, what time a gathered blast
Of the fierce hurricane hath all at once
Twisted its way into a mass of clouds,
And, there enclosed, ever more and more
Compelleth by its spinning whirl the cloud
To grow all hollow with a thickened crust
Surrounding; for thereafter, when the force
And the keen onset of the wind have weakened
That crust, lo, then the cloud, to-split in twain,
Gives forth a hideous crash with bang and boom.
No marvel this; since oft a bladder small,

[...] Read more

poem by Lucretius
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An Essay On The Different Stiles Of Poetry

To Henry, Lord Viscount Bolingbroke.

I hate the Vulgar with untuneful Mind,
Hearts uninspir'd, and Senses unrefin'd.
Hence ye Prophane, I raise the sounding String,
And Bolingbroke descends to hear me sing.

When Greece cou'd Truth in Mystick Fable shroud,
And with Delight instruct the list'ning Crowd,
An ancient Poet (Time has lost his Name)
Deliver'd Strains on Verse to future Fame.
Still as he sung he touch'd the trembling Lyre,
And felt the Notes a rising Warmth inspire.
Ye sweet'ning Graces in the Musick Throng,
Assist my Genius, and retrieve the Song
From dark Oblivion. See, my Genius goes
To call it forth. 'Twas thus the Poem rose.

Wit is the Muses Horse, and bears on high
The daring Rider to the Muses Sky:
Who, while his strength to mount aloft he tries,
By Regions varying in their Nature, flies.

At first he riseth o'er a Land of Toil,
A barren, hard, and undeserving Soil,
Where only Weeds from heavy Labour grow,
Which yet the Nation prune, and keep for show.
Where Couplets jingling on their Accent run,
Whose point of Epigram is sunk to Pun.
Where Wings by Fancy never feather'd fly,
Where Lines by measure form'd in Hatchets lie;
Where Altars stand, erected Porches gape,
And Sense is cramp'd while Words are par'd to shape;
Where mean Acrosticks labour'd in a Frame,
On scatter'd Letters raise a painful Scheme;
And by Confinement in their Work controul
The great Enlargings of the boundless Soul.
Where if a Warriour's elevated Fire
Wou'd all the brightest Strokes of Verse require,
Then streight in Anagram a wretched Crew
Will pay their undeserving Praises too;
While on the rack his poor disjointed Name
Must tell its Master's Character to Fame.
And (if my Fire and Fears aright presage)
The lab'ring Writers of a future Age
Shall clear new ground, and Grotts and Caves repair,
To civilize the babbling Ecchoes there.
Then while a Lover treads a lonely Walk,
His Voice shall with its own Reflection talk,

[...] Read more

poem by Thomas Parnell
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Author's Apology For His Book

WHEN at the first I took my pen in hand
Thus for to write, I did not understand

That I at all should make a little book
In such a mode: nay, I had undertook

To make another; which, when almost done,
Before I was aware I this begun.

And thus it was: I, writing of the way
And race of saints in this our gospel-day,

Fell suddenly into an allegory
About their journey, and the way to glory,

In more than twenty things which I set down
This done, I twenty more had in my crown,

And they again began to multiply,
Like sparks that from the coals of fire do fly.

Nay, then, thought I, if that you breed so fast,
I'll put you by yourselves, lest you at last

Should prove ad infinitum, I and eat out
The book that I already am about.

Well, so I did; but yet I did not think
To show to all the world my pen and ink

In such a mode; I only thought to make
I knew not what: nor did I undertake

Thereby to please my neighbor; no, not I;
I did it my own self to gratify.

Neither did I but vacant seasons spend
In this my scribble; nor did I intend

But to divert myself, in doing this,
From worser thoughts, which make me do amiss.

Thus I set pen to paper with delight,
And quickly had my thoughts in black and white;

For having now my method by the end,
Still as I pull'd, it came; and so I penned

It down; until it came at last to be,
For length and breadth, the bigness which you see.

[...] Read more

poem by John Bunyan
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William and Helen

I.
From heavy dreams fair Helen rose,
And eyed the dawning red:
'Alas, my love, thou tarriest long!
O art thou false or dead?'-

II.
With gallant Fred'rick's princely power
He sought the bold Crusade;
But not a word from Judah's wars
Told Helen how he sped.

III.
With Paynim and with Saracen
At length a truce was made,
And every knight return'd to dry
The tears his love had shed.

IV.
Our gallant host was homeward bound
With many a song of joy;
Green waved the laurel in each plume,
The badge of victory.

V.
And old and young, and sire and son,
To meet them crowd the way,
With shouts, and mirth, and melody,
The debt of love to pay.

VI.
Full many a maid her true-love met,
And sobb'd in his embrace,
And flutt'ring joy in tears and smiles
Array'd full many a face.

VII.
Nor joy nor smile for Helen sad
She sought the host in vain;
For none could tell her William's fate,
In faithless, or if slain.

VIII.
The martial band is past and gone;
She rends her raven hair,
And in distraction's bitter mood
She weeps with wild despair.

IX.
'O rise, my child,' her mother said,

[...] Read more

poem by Sir Walter Scott
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Six Words Long

This song is just six words long
This song is just six words long
This song is just six words long
This song is just six words long
Couldn't think of any lyrics
No i never wrote the lyrics
So i'll just sing any old lyrics
That come to mind, child
You really need words
Whole lotta rhyming words
You gotta rhyme so many words, mm-mm
To do it, to do it, to do it, to do it
To do it, to do it right, child
This song is just six words long
This song is just six words long
This song is just six words long
This song is just six words long
I know that you're probably sore
'cause i didn't write any more
I just didn't get to complete it
So that's why i gotta repeat it
This song is just six words long (six words long)
This song is just six words long (six words long)
Oh i make a lotta money
They pay me a ton of money
They're payin' me plenty of money
To sing this song, child
I gotta fill time
Three minutes worth of time
Oh, how will i fill so much time, mm-mm
I'll throw in a solo, a solo, a solo
A solo, a solo here
This song is just six words long
This song is just six words long
This song is just six words long
This song is just six words long
This song's got nothin' to say
But i'm recording it anyway
I know if i put my mind to it
I know i could find a good rhyme here
Oh, you gotta have-a music
You need really catchy music
This song has got plenty of music
But just six words, child
And so i'll sing' em over
And over and over and over
And over and over and over, mm-mm
And over and over and over
And over and over and over again
Six words long, six words long

[...] Read more

song performed by Weird Al Yankovic
Added by Lucian Velea
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Canto the Second

I
Oh ye! who teach the ingenuous youth of nations,
Holland, France, England, Germany, or Spain,
I pray ye flog them upon all occasions,
It mends their morals, never mind the pain:
The best of mothers and of educations
In Juan's case were but employ'd in vain,
Since, in a way that's rather of the oddest, he
Became divested of his native modesty.

II
Had he but been placed at a public school,
In the third form, or even in the fourth,
His daily task had kept his fancy cool,
At least, had he been nurtured in the north;
Spain may prove an exception to the rule,
But then exceptions always prove its worth -—
A lad of sixteen causing a divorce
Puzzled his tutors very much, of course.

III
I can't say that it puzzles me at all,
If all things be consider'd: first, there was
His lady-mother, mathematical,
A—never mind; his tutor, an old ass;
A pretty woman (that's quite natural,
Or else the thing had hardly come to pass);
A husband rather old, not much in unity
With his young wife—a time, and opportunity.

IV
Well—well, the world must turn upon its axis,
And all mankind turn with it, heads or tails,
And live and die, make love and pay our taxes,
And as the veering wind shifts, shift our sails;
The king commands us, and the doctor quacks us,
The priest instructs, and so our life exhales,
A little breath, love, wine, ambition, fame,
Fighting, devotion, dust,—perhaps a name.

V
I said that Juan had been sent to Cadiz -—
A pretty town, I recollect it well -—
'T is there the mart of the colonial trade is
(Or was, before Peru learn'd to rebel),
And such sweet girls—I mean, such graceful ladies,
Their very walk would make your bosom swell;
I can't describe it, though so much it strike,
Nor liken it—I never saw the like:

[...] Read more

poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau, Saviour of Society

Epigraph

Υδραν φονεύσας, μυρίων τ᾽ ἄλλων πόνων
διῆλθον ἀγέλας . . .
τὸ λοίσθιον δὲ τόνδ᾽ ἔτλην τάλας πόνον,
. . . δῶμα θριγκῶσαι κακοῖς.

I slew the Hydra, and from labour pass'd
To labour — tribes of labours! Till, at last,
Attempting one more labour, in a trice,
Alack, with ills I crowned the edifice.

You have seen better days, dear? So have I —
And worse too, for they brought no such bud-mouth
As yours to lisp "You wish you knew me!" Well,
Wise men, 't is said, have sometimes wished the same,
And wished and had their trouble for their pains.
Suppose my Œdipus should lurk at last
Under a pork-pie hat and crinoline,
And, latish, pounce on Sphynx in Leicester Square?
Or likelier, what if Sphynx in wise old age,
Grown sick of snapping foolish people's heads,
And jealous for her riddle's proper rede, —
Jealous that the good trick which served the turn
Have justice rendered it, nor class one day
With friend Home's stilts and tongs and medium-ware,—
What if the once redoubted Sphynx, I say,
(Because night draws on, and the sands increase,
And desert-whispers grow a prophecy)
Tell all to Corinth of her own accord.
Bright Corinth, not dull Thebes, for Lais' sake,
Who finds me hardly grey, and likes my nose,
And thinks a man of sixty at the prime?
Good! It shall be! Revealment of myself!
But listen, for we must co-operate;
I don't drink tea: permit me the cigar!
First, how to make the matter plain, of course —
What was the law by which I lived. Let 's see:
Ay, we must take one instant of my life
Spent sitting by your side in this neat room:
Watch well the way I use it, and don't laugh!
Here's paper on the table, pen and ink:
Give me the soiled bit — not the pretty rose!
See! having sat an hour, I'm rested now,
Therefore want work: and spy no better work
For eye and hand and mind that guides them both,
During this instant, than to draw my pen
From blot One — thus — up, up to blot Two — thus —
Which I at last reach, thus, and here's my line
Five inches long and tolerably straight:

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning (1871)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Columbiad: Book I

The Argument

Natives of America appear in vision. Their manners and characters. Columbus demands the cause of the dissimilarity of men in different countries, Hesper replies, That the human body is composed of a due proportion of the elements suited to the place of its first formation; that these elements, differently proportioned, produce all the changes of health, sickness, growth and decay; and may likewise produce any other changes which occasion the diversity of men; that these elemental proportions are varied, not more by climate than temperature and other local circumstances; that the mind is likewise in a state of change, and will take its physical character from the body and from external objects: examples. Inquiry concerning the first peopling of America. View of Mexico. Its destruction by Cortez. View of Cusco and Quito, cities of Peru. Tradition of Capac and Oella, founders of the Peruvian empire. Columbus inquires into their real history. Hesper gives an account of their origin, and relates the stratagems they used in establishing that empire.

I sing the Mariner who first unfurl'd
An eastern banner o'er the western world,
And taught mankind where future empires lay
In these fair confines of descending day;
Who sway'd a moment, with vicarious power,
Iberia's sceptre on the new found shore,
Then saw the paths his virtuous steps had trod
Pursued by avarice and defiled with blood,
The tribes he foster'd with paternal toil
Snatch'd from his hand, and slaughter'd for their spoil.

Slaves, kings, adventurers, envious of his name,
Enjoy'd his labours and purloin'd his fame,
And gave the Viceroy, from his high seat hurl'd.
Chains for a crown, a prison for a world
Long overwhelm'd in woes, and sickening there,
He met the slow still march of black despair,
Sought the last refuge from his hopeless doom,
And wish'd from thankless men a peaceful tomb:
Till vision'd ages, opening on his eyes,
Cheer'd his sad soul, and bade new nations rise;
He saw the Atlantic heaven with light o'ercast,
And Freedom crown his glorious work at last.

Almighty Freedom! give my venturous song
The force, the charm that to thy voice belong;
Tis thine to shape my course, to light my way,
To nerve my country with the patriot lay,
To teach all men where all their interest lies,
How rulers may be just and nations wise:
Strong in thy strength I bend no suppliant knee,
Invoke no miracle, no Muse but thee.

Night held on old Castile her silent reign,
Her half orb'd moon declining to the main;
O'er Valladolid's regal turrets hazed
The drizzly fogs from dull Pisuerga raised;
Whose hovering sheets, along the welkin driven,
Thinn'd the pale stars, and shut the eye from heaven.
Cold-hearted Ferdinand his pillow prest,
Nor dream'd of those his mandates robb'd of rest,
Of him who gemm'd his crown, who stretch'd his reign
To realms that weigh'd the tenfold poise of Spain;
Who now beneath his tower indungeon'd lies,
Sweats the chill sod and breathes inclement skies.

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poem by Joel Barlow
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Splash!

The tiger strolled quite merrily,
As if without a qualm
And those that watched could plainly see
That he was mighty calm.
It was as if the stream was his,
To do with as he pleased.
It was a sight no-one should miss,
As tiger tension eased...
So there he was, content to play,
As kittens often do
And suddenly to splash away,
As if this game were new.
The fish were off, they scattered fast,
They had no furry friends.
The tiger didn't feel downcast,
Why should he take offence?
The day was young, he was there first,
The others had to wait...
This was his time to quench his thirst...
Next time, they won't be late.
Splash here, splash there, splash everywhere.
Who cares if it annoys?
As long as he had time to spare,
The pebbles were his toys.
He moved them left, he moved them right,
He flicked one so it flew.
Some birds above him soon took flight,
For all at once fear grew.
The tiger grinned to see such fun.
He knew they were perplexed.
That's when he flicked another one,
Amused that they were vexed.
He strolled along then slowly drank...
He sipped it like champagne.
Then in deep waters slowly sank
Till he was clean again...
When he was through, he left it all...
The sun would dry him soon.
Then through the tall grass he would crawl
And hunt that afternoon...

The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Splash'.

poem by Denis Martindale
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The Columbiad: Book VI

The Argument

British cruelty to American prisoners. Prison Ship. Retreat of Washington with the relics of his army, pursued by Howe. Washington recrossing the Delaware in the night, to surprise the British van, is opposed by uncommon obstacles. His success in this audacious enterprise lays the foundation of the American empire. A monument to be ere on the bank of the Delaware. Approach of Burgoyne, sailing up the St. Laurence with an army of Britons and various other nations. Indignant energy of the colonies, compared to that of Greece in opposing the invasion of Xerxes. Formation of an army of citizens, under the command of Gates. Review of the American and British armies, and of the savage tribes who join the British standard. Battle of Saratoga. Story of Lucinda. Second battle, and capture of Burgoyne and his army.

But of all tales that war's black annals hold,
The darkest, foulest still remains untold;
New modes of torture wait the shameful strife,
And Britain wantons in the waste of life.

Cold-blooded Cruelty, first fiend of hell,
Ah think no more with savage hordes to dwell;
Quit the Caribian tribes who eat their slain,
Fly that grim gang, the Inquisitors of Spain,
Boast not thy deeds in Moloch's shrines of old,
Leave Barbary's pirates to their blood-bought gold,
Let Holland steal her victims, force them o'er
To toils and death on Java's morbid shore;
Some cloak, some color all these crimes may plead;
Tis avarice, passion, blind religion's deed;
But Britons here, in this fraternal broil,
Grave, cool, deliberate in thy service toil.
Far from the nation's eye, whose nobler soul
Their wars would humanize, their pride control,
They lose the lessons that her laws impart,
And change the British for the brutal heart.
Fired by no passion, madden'd by no zeal,
No priest, no Plutus bids them not to feel;
Unpaid, gratuitous, on torture bent,
Their sport is death, their pastime to torment;
All other gods they scorn, but bow the knee,
And curb, well pleased, O Cruelty, to thee.

Come then, curst goddess, where thy votaries reign,
Inhale their incense from the land and main;
Come to Newyork, their conquering arms to greet,
Brood o'er their camp and breathe along their fleet;
The brother chiefs of Howe's illustrious name
Demand thy labors to complete their fame.
What shrieks of agony thy praises sound!
What grateless dungeons groan beneath the ground!
See the black Prison Ship's expanding womb
Impested thousands, quick and dead, entomb.
Barks after barks the captured seamen bear,
Transboard and lodge thy silent victims there;
A hundred scows, from all the neighboring shore,
Spread the dull sail and ply the constant oar,
Waft wrecks of armies from the well fought field,
And famisht garrisons who bravely yield;

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poem by Joel Barlow
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Injected Lyrically

Black ink flows
in various vibes
and original scribes

Without words
I would cease
My soul would un-ease
my hearts beat would slow
Softer Lighter almost into Oblivion

If a pen drew breath
~n~ ink spilled til death
wouldn't missin it
burn a yearn
to want it back

This welling inside it hurts
deepened incisions
imprisoned to my wounds
there dwells a fire
a desire a burning
forever absorbing

Creativity finds comfort
within the cradle of my hand

See if I penned a sonnet
would it be perceived as weak
because I placed my heart upon it
maybe I am a fool for spilling souls blood
in inks line but I fight to stave off
the deepest pain that consumes
all that haunts my mind

I am a Poet
Who Breathes in Blue

Bleeds in black ink

Scribes in blood

Creativity Spills
Like The Thickness
of Curved Water
and Falls Heavier than
the combined water
of the worlds rain
in one spot

I am a master

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poem by Samantha Campbell
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The Siege of Corinth

In the year since Jesus died for men,
Eighteen hundred years and ten,
We were a gallant company,
Riding o'er land, and sailing o'er sea
Oh ! but we went merrily !
We forded the river, and clomb the high hill,
Never our steeds for a day stood still;
Whether we lay in the cave or the shed,
Our sleep fell soft on the hardest bed:
Whether we couch'd in our rough capote,
On the rougher plank of our gliding boat.
Or stretch'd on the beach, or our saddles spread
As a pillow beneath the resting head,
Fresh we woke upon the morrow:
All our thoughts and words had scope,
We had health, and we had hope,
Toil and travel, but no sorrow.
We were of all tongues and creeds; ---
Some were those who counted beads,
Some of mosque, and some of church;
Yet through the wide world might ye search,
Nor find a motlier crew nor blither.
But some are dead, and some are gone,
And some are scatter'd and alone,
And some are rebels on the hills
That look along Epirus' valleys,
Where freedom still at moments rallies,
And pays in blood oppression's ills;
And some are in a far countree,
And some all restlessly at home;
But never more, oh ! never, we
Shall meet to revel and to roam.
But those hardy days flew cheerily !
And when they now fall drearily,
My thoughts, like swallows, skim the main,
And bear my spirit back again
Over the earth, and through the air,
A wild bird and a wanderer.
'Tis this that ever wakes my strain,
And oft, too oft, implores again
The few who may endure my lay,
To follow me so far away.
Stranger --- wilt thou follow now,
And sit with me on Acro-Corinth's brow?

I
Many a vanish'd year and age,
And tempest's breath, and battle's rage,
Have swept o'er Corinth; yet she stands,
A fortress form'd to Freedom's hands.

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poem by Byron (1816)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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