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Sanity

Sanity never came my way.
(Came his way)
Sanity never came my way.
(His way)
I don't know what I'll do today.
(Way)
'Cause sanity never came my way.
Lost my mind just a couple of times.
(Lost his mind)
Lost my mind just a couple of times.
(His mind)
You can spend your nickels, you can spend your dimes.
(Mind)
But I lost my mind just a couple of times.
You can trespass anywhere.
(A-ny-where)
You can trespass anywhere.
(Ny-where)
Where you go, you'd better beware
(Be-ware)You can trespass anywhere.
I forgot the rules, I forgot my pride.
('Got his pride)
I forgot the rules, I forgot my pride.
(His pride)
I don't need a place to hide.
(Hide)
I forgot the rules, I forgot my pride,
but I don't need a place to hide!
The stars in the sky are very bright.
(Stars are bright)
The stars in the sky are very bright.
(Are bright)
The stars they really suck tonight!
(Stars suck)
The stars in the sky are very bright.
And I don't care if the world explodes.
(world ex-plodes)
No, I don't care if the world explodes.
(Ex-plodes!)
You can save the whales, you can save the toads.
(Toads)
But I don't care if the world explodes.
BANG!
BOOM!

song performed by Phish
Added by Lucian Velea
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Nickels And Dimes

I used to stand on a corner when i was a child
And i'd play my guitar and sing as the people went by
The sidewalks were crowded but i'd just sing louder cause i didn't mind
Just spending my time, spinning my rhymes and singing for nickels and dimes
Nickels and dimes a song at a time for nickels and dimes
I'd brighten their day as they go on their way and they'd brighten mine
A sidewalk rehearsal for dreams that i held in my mind
I knew that someday in my own special i'd repay all their nickels and dimes
I recall the sidewalk each night as i stand on the stage
As i play my guitar and sing for the people who paid
Cause i finally made it to what they all call the big time
But i still remember i still owe some nickels and dimes
Nickels and dimes a song at a time for nickels and dimes
A sidewalk rehearsal for dreams that i held in my mind
So if you remember a child on the corner of time
You'll know that i wrote this to repay your nickels and dimes
Nickels and dimes a song at a time for nickels and dimes
A sidewalk rehearsal for dreams that i held in my mind
So if you remember a child on a corner of time
You'll know that i wrote this to repay your nickels and dimes
Nickels and dimes a song at a time for nickels and dimes
A sidewalk rehearsal for dreams that i held in my mind
So if you remember a child on a corner of time
You'll know that i wrote this to repay your nickels and dimes

song performed by Dolly Parton
Added by Lucian Velea
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Nickels & Dimes

I used to stand on a corner when I was a child
And Id play my guitar and sing as the people went by
The sidewalks were crowded but Id just sing louder cause I didnt mind
Just spending my time, spinning my rhymes and singing for nickels and dimes
Nickels and dimes a song at a time for nickels and dimes
Id brighten their day as they go on their way and theyd brighten mine
A sidewalk rehearsal for dreams that I held in my mind
I knew that someday in my own special Id repay all their nickels and dimes
I recall the sidewalk each night as I stand on the stage
As I play my guitar and sing for the people who paid
Cause I finally made it to what they all call the big time
But I still remember I still owe some nickels and dimes
Nickels and dimes a song at a time for nickels and dimes
A sidewalk rehearsal for dreams that I held in my mind
So if you remember a child on the corner of time
Youll know that I wrote this to repay your nickels and dimes
Nickels and dimes a song at a time for nickels and dimes
A sidewalk rehearsal for dreams that I held in my mind
So if you remember a child on a corner of time
Youll know that I wrote this to repay your nickels and dimes
Nickels and dimes a song at a time for nickels and dimes
A sidewalk rehearsal for dreams that I held in my mind
So if you remember a child on a corner of time
Youll know that I wrote this to repay your nickels and dimes

song performed by Dolly Parton
Added by Lucian Velea
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Nickels And Dimes And Love

Remember when pocket change was all we had
And all those calls from the corner phonebooth
Collect to Mom and Dad
And that old worn out couch we called our bed
When our cuisine was pork and beans
Baloney and day old bread
Remember that damn old car that kept breaking down
And all the times it left me stranded
Thumbing all over town
And that old weekly paycheck
Just never stretched enough
Back in the times of nickels and dimes and love
Together we sure made some dreams come true
Sometimes it wasn't easy
But somehow we made it through
And when I get to thinking times are tough
I remember the times
Of nickels and dimes and love
Oh those good old times
Of nickels and dimes and love
Remember digging through your old purses in hopes we'd get
Enough change for an RC cola or a pack of cigarettes
Now we've got almost everything
That we were dreaming of
Back in the times
Of nickels and dimes and love
Together we sure made some dreams come true
Sometimes it wasn't easy
But somehow we made it through
And when I get to thinking times are tough
I remember the times
Of nickels and dimes and love
Oh those good old times
Of nickels and dimes and love
Do you remember those times
Of nickels and dimes and love

song performed by John Michael Montgomery
Added by Lucian Velea
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Nickels & Dimes & Love

(johnny macrae/steve clark)
Remember when pocket change was all we had
And all those calls from the corner phonebooth
Collect to mom and dad
And that old worn out couch we called our bed
When our cuisine was pork and beans
Baloney and day old bread
Remember that damn old car that kept breaking down
And all the times it left me stranded
Thumbing all over town
And that old weekly paycheck
Just never stretched enough
Back in the times of nickels and dimes and love
Together we sure made some dreams come true
Sometimes it wasnt easy
But somehow we made it through
And when I get to thinking times are tough
I remember the times
Of nickels and dimes and love
Oh those good old times
Of nickels and dimes and love
Remember digging through your old purses in hopes wed get
Enough change for an rc cola or a pack of cigarettes
Now weve got almost everything
That we were dreaming of
Back in the times
Of nickels and dimes and love
Together we sure made some dreams come true
Sometimes it wasnt easy
But somehow we made it through
And when I get to thinking times are tough
I remember the times
Of nickels and dimes and love
Oh those good old times
Of nickels and dimes and love
Do you remember those times
Of nickels and dimes and love

song performed by John Michael Montgomery
Added by Lucian Velea
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Aruba Is for Many Out Of Reach

Life once had us running to the bank.
Banking on the prospect,
That investments in a future...
Would produce security.
Security fantasized,
To feed those whims and needs...
Afforded to please.

We believed that banking,
Was then a safe direction...
For a quality of life,
Respected to protect..
In quality ease!

If this was yesterday...
It would be okay,
To think about Aruba...
And snoozing on the beach.

If 'this' was yesterday...
We'd put our dimes away.
But unlike those yesterdays...
Today pinching dimes,
Gets rent timely paid!

If this was yesterday,
It would be okay...
To think about Aruba!
Just to snooze on the beach.
And...
Oiling heated skin,
Rubbing sand off our feet.

If 'this' was yesterday...
We'd put our dimes away.
But unlike those yesterdays...
A rent that's needed to be paid,
Is just a pinch away.

And today Aruba,
Is for many out of reach.

Because today Aruba,
Is a dream hard to keep!

If this was yesterday,
It would be okay...
To think about Aruba!
Just to snooze on the beach.
And...

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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Lazy In Aruba

Life once had us running to the bank.
Banking on the prospect,
That investments in a future...
Would produce security.
Security fantasized,
To feed those whims and needs...
Afforded to please.

We believed that banking,
Was then a safe direction...
For a quality of life,
Respected to protect..
In quality ease!

If this was yesterday...
It would be okay,
To think about Aruba...
And snoozing on the beach.

If 'this' was yesterday...
We'd put our dimes away.
But unlike those yesterdays...
Today pinching dimes,
Gets rent timely paid!

If this was yesterday,
It would be okay...
To think about Aruba!
Just to snooze on the beach.
And...
Oiling heated skin,
Rubbing sand off our feet.

If 'this' was yesterday...
We'd put our dimes away.
But unlike those yesterdays...
A rent that's needed to be paid,
Is just a pinch away.

And today Aruba,
Is for many out of reach.

Because today Aruba,
Is a dream hard to keep!

If this was yesterday,
It would be okay...
To think about Aruba!
Just to snooze on the beach.
And...

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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The Libelle of Englyshe Polycye

Here beginneth the Prologe of the processe of the Libelle of Englyshe polycye, exhortynge alle Englande to kepe the see enviroun and namelye the narowe see, shewynge whate profete commeth thereof and also whate worshype and salvacione to Englande and to alle Englyshe menne.

The trewe processe of Englysh polycye
Of utterwarde to kepe thys regne in rest
Of oure England, that no man may denye
Ner say of soth but it is one the best,
Is thys, as who seith, south, north, est and west
Cheryshe marchandyse, kepe thamyralte,
That we bee maysteres of the narowe see.

For Sigesmonde the grete Emperoure,
Whyche yet regneth, whan he was in this londe
Wyth kynge Herry the vte, prince of honoure,
Here moche glorye, as hym thought, he founde,
A myghty londe, whyche hadde take on honde
To werre in Fraunce and make mortalite,
And ever well kept rounde aboute the see.

And to the kynge thus he seyde, 'My brothere',
Whan he perceyved too townes, Calys and Dovere,
'Of alle youre townes to chese of one and other
To kepe the see and sone for to come overe,
To werre oughtwardes and youre regne to recovere,
Kepe these too townes sure to youre mageste
As youre tweyne eyne to kepe the narowe see'.

For if this see be kepte in tyme of werre,
Who cane here passe withought daunger and woo?
Who may eschape, who may myschef dyfferre?
What marchaundy may forby be agoo?
For nedes hem muste take truse every foo,
Flaundres and Spayne and othere, trust to me,
Or ellis hyndered alle for thys narowe see.

Therfore I caste me by a lytell wrytinge
To shewe att eye thys conclusione,
For concyens and for myne acquytynge
Ayenst God, and ageyne abusyon
And cowardyse and to oure enmyes confusione;
For iiij. thynges oure noble sheueth to me,
Kyng, shype and swerde and pouer of the see.

Where bene oure shippes, where bene oure swerdes become?
Owre enmyes bid for the shippe sette a shepe.
Allas, oure reule halteth, hit is benome.

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Olde English
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The Flower And The Leaf

When that Phebus his chaire of gold so hy
Had whirled up the sterry sky aloft,
And in the Bole was entred certainly;
Whan shoures swete of rain discended soft,
Causing the ground, felë tymes and oft,
Up for to give many an hoolsom air,
And every plain was [eek y-]clothed fair

With newe grene, and maketh smalë floures
To springen here and there in feld and mede;
So very good and hoolsom be the shoures
That it reneweth, that was old and deede
In winter-tyme; and out of every seede
Springeth the herbë, so that every wight
Of this sesoun wexeth [ful] glad and light.

And I, só glad of the seson swete,
Was happed thus upon a certain night;
As I lay in my bed, sleep ful unmete
Was unto me; but, why that I ne might
Rest, I ne wist; for there nas erthly wight,
As I suppose, had more hertës ese
Than I, for I n'ad siknesse nor disese.

Wherfore I mervail gretly of my-selve,
That I so long, withouten sleepë lay;
And up I roos, three houres after twelve,
About the [very] springing of the day,
And on I put my gere and myn array;
And to a plesaunt grovë I gan passe,
Long or the brightë sonne uprisen was,

In which were okës grete, streight as a lyne,
Under the which the gras, so fresh of hew,
Was newly spronge; and an eight foot or nyne
Every tree wel fro his felawe grew,
With braunches brode, laden with leves new,
That sprongen out ayein the sonnë shene,
Som very rede, and som a glad light grene;

Which, as me thought, was right a plesaunt sight.
And eek the briddes song[ës] for to here
Would have rejoised any erthly wight.
And I, that couth not yet, in no manere,
Here the nightingale of al the yere,
Ful busily herkned, with herte and ere,
If I her voice perceive coud any-where.

And at the last, a path of litel brede
I found, that gretly had not used be,

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Olde English
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All The Girls In The World Beware!!!

I got tarter on my teeth, but I dont care.
I got dark brown stains, in my underwear.
Im a crumb and a bum, Im a slouch and a louse.
A crazy man who dont give a damn about his self.
Chorus
All the girls in the world beware!!!
All the girls in the world beware!!!
All the girls in the world beware!!!
All the girls in the world beware!!!
Im the crazy man.
Im the crazy man.
Im the craa ... zzy man.
I aint naive, I got a line or two.
Id even make one up, just to lay on you.
Im rude and Im shrewd, Im fat and Im bad.
Im a man who dont give a damn bout who he is.
Chorus
Chorus
Chorus
Im the crazy man.
Im the crazy man.
Im the craa ... zzy man.
All the girls beware.
All the girls beware.
All the girls beware.
All the girls beware.
All the girls beware.
All the girls beware.
All the girls beware!!!
Im the crazy man.
All the girls in the world beware!!!
Im the crazy man.
All the girls in the world beware!!!
Im the craa ...
All the girls in the world beware!!!
... zzy man.
All the girls in the world beware!!!
Chorus
Craa ... zzy.

song performed by Grand Funk Railroad
Added by Lucian Velea
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V. Count Guido Franceschini

Thanks, Sir, but, should it please the reverend Court,
I feel I can stand somehow, half sit down
Without help, make shift to even speak, you see,
Fortified by the sip of … why, 't is wine,
Velletri,—and not vinegar and gall,
So changed and good the times grow! Thanks, kind Sir!
Oh, but one sip's enough! I want my head
To save my neck, there's work awaits me still.
How cautious and considerate … aie, aie, aie,
Nor your fault, sweet Sir! Come, you take to heart
An ordinary matter. Law is law.
Noblemen were exempt, the vulgar thought,
From racking; but, since law thinks otherwise,
I have been put to the rack: all's over now,
And neither wrist—what men style, out of joint:
If any harm be, 't is the shoulder-blade,
The left one, that seems wrong i' the socket,—Sirs,
Much could not happen, I was quick to faint,
Being past my prime of life, and out of health.
In short, I thank you,—yes, and mean the word.
Needs must the Court be slow to understand
How this quite novel form of taking pain,
This getting tortured merely in the flesh,
Amounts to almost an agreeable change
In my case, me fastidious, plied too much
With opposite treatment, used (forgive the joke)
To the rasp-tooth toying with this brain of mine,
And, in and out my heart, the play o' the probe.
Four years have I been operated on
I' the soul, do you see—its tense or tremulous part—
My self-respect, my care for a good name,
Pride in an old one, love of kindred—just
A mother, brothers, sisters, and the like,
That looked up to my face when days were dim,
And fancied they found light there—no one spot,
Foppishly sensitive, but has paid its pang.
That, and not this you now oblige me with,
That was the Vigil-torment, if you please!
The poor old noble House that drew the rags
O' the Franceschini's once superb array
Close round her, hoped to slink unchallenged by,—
Pluck off these! Turn the drapery inside out
And teach the tittering town how scarlet wears!
Show men the lucklessness, the improvidence
Of the easy-natured Count before this Count,
The father I have some slight feeling for,
Who let the world slide, nor foresaw that friends
Then proud to cap and kiss their patron's shoe,
Would, when the purse he left held spider-webs,
Properly push his child to wall one day!

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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XI. Guido

You are the Cardinal Acciaiuoli, and you,
Abate Panciatichi—two good Tuscan names:
Acciaiuoli—ah, your ancestor it was
Built the huge battlemented convent-block
Over the little forky flashing Greve
That takes the quick turn at the foot o' the hill
Just as one first sees Florence: oh those days!
'T is Ema, though, the other rivulet,
The one-arched brown brick bridge yawns over,—yes,
Gallop and go five minutes, and you gain
The Roman Gate from where the Ema's bridged:
Kingfishers fly there: how I see the bend
O'erturreted by Certosa which he built,
That Senescal (we styled him) of your House!
I do adjure you, help me, Sirs! My blood
Comes from as far a source: ought it to end
This way, by leakage through their scaffold-planks
Into Rome's sink where her red refuse runs?
Sirs, I beseech you by blood-sympathy,
If there be any vile experiment
In the air,—if this your visit simply prove,
When all's done, just a well-intentioned trick,
That tries for truth truer than truth itself,
By startling up a man, ere break of day,
To tell him he must die at sunset,—pshaw!
That man's a Franceschini; feel his pulse,
Laugh at your folly, and let's all go sleep!
You have my last word,—innocent am I
As Innocent my Pope and murderer,
Innocent as a babe, as Mary's own,
As Mary's self,—I said, say and repeat,—
And why, then, should I die twelve hours hence? I—
Whom, not twelve hours ago, the gaoler bade
Turn to my straw-truss, settle and sleep sound
That I might wake the sooner, promptlier pay
His due of meat-and-drink-indulgence, cross
His palm with fee of the good-hand, beside,
As gallants use who go at large again!
For why? All honest Rome approved my part;
Whoever owned wife, sister, daughter,—nay,
Mistress,—had any shadow of any right
That looks like right, and, all the more resolved,
Held it with tooth and nail,—these manly men
Approved! I being for Rome, Rome was for me.
Then, there's the point reserved, the subterfuge
My lawyers held by, kept for last resource,
Firm should all else,—the impossible fancy!—fail,
And sneaking burgess-spirit win the day.
The knaves! One plea at least would hold,—they laughed,—
One grappling-iron scratch the bottom-rock

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Beware My Love

Cant say Ive found out,
I cant tell you
Whats all about.
Dont know who does,
I tell you to
Beware, my love.
Beware, my love.
Beware, my love.
Beware, my love.
Beware, my love.
Beware, my love.
Oh, oh, oh,
No, no, no.
I must be wrong, baby, yeah.
But I dont believe that hes the one,
But if you insist,
I must be wrong, I must be wrong,
I have to leave,
And when Im gone,
Ill leave my message in my song,
Thats right.
Beware, my love,
Hell bowl you over.
Beware, my love,
Before youre much older,
Hell sweep you up under his carpet.
Youd be in luck if you could stop it.
Come on, now.
Well, hell wear you out,
And in a miniute,
Youll hear a shout,
And then youll be in it.
So, so beware my love,
cause hell take you under.
Beware, my love,
The sound of his thunder;
Cant say (Ive) found out.
I tell you to
Beware, my love.
Beware, my love.
Beware, my love.
Beware, my love.

song performed by Paul McCartney
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Bell Buoy

They christened my brother of old--
And a saintly name he bears--
They gave him his place to hold
At the head of the belfry-stairs,
Where the minister-towers stand
And the breeding kestrels cry.
Would I change with my brother a league inland?
(Shoal! 'Ware shoal!) Not I!

In the flush of the hot June prime,
O'er sleek flood-tides afire,
I hear him hurry the chime
To the bidding of checked Desire;
Till the sweated ringers tire
And the wild bob-majors die.
Could I wait for my turn in the godly choir?
(Shoal! 'Ware shoal!) Not I!

When the smoking scud is blown--
When the greasy wind-rack lowers--
Apart and at peace and alone,
He counts the changeless hours.
He wars with darkling Powers
(I war with a darkling sea);
Would he stoop to my work in the gusty mirk?
(Shoal! 'Ware shoal!) Not he!

There was never a priest to pray
There was never a hand to toll,
When they made me guard of the bay,
And moored me over the shoal.
I rock, I reel, and I roll--
My four great hammers ply--
Could I speak or be still at the Church's will?
(Shoal! 'Ware shoal!) Not I!

The landward marks have failed,
The fog-bank glides unguessed,
The seaward lights are veiled,
The spent deep feigns her rest:
But my ear is laid to her breast,
I lift to the swell--I cry!
Could I wait in sloth on the Church's oath?
(Shoal! 'Ware shoal!) Not I!

At the careless end of night
I thrill to the nearing screw;
I turn in the clearing light
And I call to the drowsy crew;
And the mud boils foul and blue

[...] Read more

poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Hard Times And Misery

(Marty Stuart)
Another day on Highway 41
It's a long black snake that runs to the sun
My mama told me since the day I was born
Son, down in the southland is where you belong
So, I'm pitching nickels, pitching dimes
Talking trash and drinkin' wine
It's just another day in the life of me
Hard times and misery
I got a mansion looks like a shotgun shack
I draw my money from a cotton sack
But I finally found one thing that's free
That's been hard times and misery
So, I'm pitching nickels, pitching dimes
Talking trash and drinkin' wine
It's just another day in the life of me
Hard times and misery
Watermelon's are hanging on the vine
Thirty some odd years of wasted time
When I wake up, Lord, that's all I see
It's hard times and misery
But there's a train that runs through this town
Every evening when the sun goes down
Tomorrow night at 8:03
No more hard times and misery
So, I'm pitching nickels, pitching dimes
Talking trash and drinkin' wine
It's just another day in the life of me
Hard times and misery

song performed by Travis Tritt
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Cōforte of Louers

The prohemye.

The gentyll poetes/vnder cloudy fygures
Do touche a trouth/and clokeit subtylly
Harde is to cōstrue poetycall scryptures
They are so fayned/& made sētēcyously
For som do wryte of loue by fables pryuely
Some do endyte/vpon good moralyte
Of chyualrous actes/done in antyquyte
Whose fables and storyes ben pastymes pleasaunt
To lordes and ladyes/as is theyr lykynge
Dyuers to moralyte/ben oft attendaunt
And many delyte to rede of louynge
Youth loueth aduenture/pleasure and lykynge
Aege foloweth polycy/sadnesse and prudence
Thus they do dyffre/eche in experyence
I lytell or nought/experte in this scyence
Compyle suche bokes/to deuoyde ydlenes
Besechynge the reders/with all my delygence
Where as I offende/for to correct doubtles
Submyttynge me to theyr grete gentylnes
As none hystoryagraffe/nor poete laureate
But gladly wolde folowe/the makynge of Lydgate
Fyrst noble Gower/moralytees dyde endyte
And after hym Cauncers/grete bokes delectable
Lyke a good phylozophre/meruaylously dyde wryte
After them Lydgate/the monke commendable
Made many wonderfull bokes moche profytable
But syth the are deed/& theyr bodyes layde in chest
I pray to god to gyue theyr soules good rest

Finis prohemii.

Whan fayre was phebus/w&supere; his bemes bryght
Amyddes of gemyny/aloft the fyrmament
Without blacke cloudes/castynge his pured lyght
With sorowe opprest/and grete incombrement
Remembrynge well/my lady excellent
Saynge o fortune helpe me to preuayle
For thou knowest all my paynfull trauayle
I went than musynge/in a medowe grene
Myselfe alone/amonge the floures in dede
With god aboue/the futertens is sene
To god I sayd/thou mayst my mater spede
And me rewarde/accordynge to my mede
Thou knowest the trouthe/I am to the true
Whan that thou lyst/thou mayst them all subdue
Who dyde preserue the yonge edyppus
Whiche sholde haue be slayne by calculacyon
To deuoyde grete thynges/the story sheweth vs

[...] Read more

poem by Stephen Hawes
Added by Poetry Lover
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The Amateur Photographer

Beware of those who slyly pilch
In many cunning ways;
Beware of little lyres that filch
From undisputed bays!
Beware the tumbler's beaded brim,
The ass in fiercer fur;
But most of all beware of him
Who makes my pen to stir--
THe Insecure
And Amateur
Implacable Photographer!

Beware lest, thieving for your thirst,
An earwig's in the plum!
Beware of folly, gay at first,
That later makes you glum!
Beware of pits when stars are dim,
The tooth of vagrant cur;
But most of all beware of him
That makes my pen to stir--
The masterful
Disasterful
Implacable Photographer!

Beware of angling in a stream
Whose trout are not for you;
Beware of trusting in a dream
That's gone before the dew!
Beware of truckling to a whim;
Of folks that always purr;
But most of all beware of him
That makes my pen to stir--
The premature
And Amateur
Implacable Photographer!

poem by Norman Rowland Gale
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The Fyftene Loyes Of Maryage

Somer passed/and wynter well begone
The dayes shorte/the darke nyghtes longe
Haue taken season/and brynghtnes of the sonne
Is lytell sene/and small byrdes songe
Seldon is herde/in feldes or wodes ronge
All strength and ventue/of trees and herbes sote
Dyscendynge be/from croppe in to the rote

And euery creature by course of kynde
For socoure draweth to that countre and place
Where for a tyme/they may purchace and fynde
Conforte and rest/abydynge after grace
That clere Appolo with bryghtnes of his face
Wyll sende/whan lusty ver shall come to towne
And gyue the grounde/of grene a goodly gowne

And Flora goddesse bothe of whyte and grene
Her mantell large/ouer all the erthe shall sprede
Shewynge her selfe/apparayled lyke a quene
As well in feldes/wodes/as in mede
Hauynge so ryche a croune vpon her hede
The whiche of floures/shall be so fayre and bryght
That all the worlde/shall take therof a lyght

So now it is/of late I was desyred
Out of the trenche to drawe a lytell boke
Of .xv. Ioyes/of whiche though I were hyred
I can not tell/and yet I vndertoke
This entrepryse/with a full pyteous loke
Remembrynge well/the case that stode in
Lyuynge in hope/this wynter to begyn

Some Ioyes to fynde that be in maryage
For in my youth/yet neuer acquayntaunce
Had of them but now in myn olde aege
I trust my selfe/to forther and auaunce
If that in me/there lacke no suffysaunce
Whiche may dyspleasyr/clerely set a parte
I wante but all/that longeth to that arte

yet wyll I speke/though I may do no more
Fully purposynge/in all these Ioyes to trete
Accordynge to my purpose made to fore
All be it so/I can not well forgete
The payne/trauayle/besynes and hete

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Olde English
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Affirmations(2002-2004)

Today, I will get up before my alarm
Today, I won't close my eyes until dusk
Today, I will not get a speeding ticket
Today, I will count this day as a first
Today, I will enjoy the life that has been left to me
Today, I won't frown over the may-have-beens
Today, I won't cry over the should-have-beens
Today, I won't wonder about the could-have-beens

Today, I'll smile.......Today, I'll Laugh.... Today, I'll relax

Today, I won't feel alone because I don't see you
Today, I'll find something new that wasn't true of you
Today, I won't be afraid to look upon a new face
Today, I'll step up and take my place
Today, I won't think about what I've lost
Today, I'll look forward instead of behind
Today, I'll find some piece of mind

Today, I'll hope.... Today, I'll pray... Today, I'll believe

Today, I'll dream as if I always did
Today, I'll wish on a star the way I used to
Today, I'll reach for the heavens and sigh
Today, My heart will start to heal
Today, the biggest miracle is ME.
Today, Yesterday's problems ceased to be
Today, the rain has stopped and the sun has returned
Today, the breath of kindness is found in words

Today, I wonder.... Today, I am a child.

poem by Lillian B. Rose
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[9] O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!

O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!
[LOVE POEMS]

POET: MAHENDRA BHATNAGAR

POEMS

1 Passion And Compassion / 1
2 Affection
3 Willing To Live
4 Passion And Compassion / 2
5 Boon
6 Remembrance
7 Pretext
8 To A Distant Person
9 Perception
10 Conclusion
10 You (1)
11 Symbol
12 You (2)
13 In Vain
14 One Night
15 Suddenly
16 Meeting
17 Touch
18 Face To Face
19 Co-Traveller
20 Once And Once only
21 Touchstone
22 In Chorus
23 Good Omens
24 Even Then
25 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (1)
26 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (2)
27 Life Aspirant
28 To The Condemned Woman
29 A Submission
30 At Midday
31 I Accept
32 Who Are You?
33 Solicitation
34 Accept Me
35 Again After Ages …
36 Day-Dreaming
37 Who Are You?
38 You Embellished In Song

[...] Read more

poem by Mahendra Bhatnagar
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VII. Pompilia

I am just seventeen years and five months old,
And, if I lived one day more, three full weeks;
'T is writ so in the church's register,
Lorenzo in Lucina, all my names
At length, so many names for one poor child,
—Francesca Camilla Vittoria Angela
Pompilia Comparini,—laughable!
Also 't is writ that I was married there
Four years ago: and they will add, I hope,
When they insert my death, a word or two,—
Omitting all about the mode of death,—
This, in its place, this which one cares to know,
That I had been a mother of a son
Exactly two weeks. It will be through grace
O' the Curate, not through any claim I have;
Because the boy was born at, so baptized
Close to, the Villa, in the proper church:
A pretty church, I say no word against,
Yet stranger-like,—while this Lorenzo seems
My own particular place, I always say.
I used to wonder, when I stood scarce high
As the bed here, what the marble lion meant,
With half his body rushing from the wall,
Eating the figure of a prostrate man—
(To the right, it is, of entry by the door)
An ominous sign to one baptized like me,
Married, and to be buried there, I hope.
And they should add, to have my life complete,
He is a boy and Gaetan by name—
Gaetano, for a reason,—if the friar
Don Celestine will ask this grace for me
Of Curate Ottoboni: he it was
Baptized me: he remembers my whole life
As I do his grey hair.

All these few things
I know are true,—will you remember them?
Because time flies. The surgeon cared for me,
To count my wounds,—twenty-two dagger-wounds,
Five deadly, but I do not suffer much—
Or too much pain,—and am to die to-night.

Oh how good God is that my babe was born,
—Better than born, baptized and hid away
Before this happened, safe from being hurt!
That had been sin God could not well forgive:
He was too young to smile and save himself.
When they took two days after he was born,
My babe away from me to be baptized
And hidden awhile, for fear his foe should find,—

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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