Quotes about midway, page 10
Earlier Poems : Sunrise On The Hills
I stood upon the hills, when heaven's wide arch
Was glorious with the sun's returning march,
And woods were brightened, and soft gales
Went forth to kiss the sun-clad vales.
The clouds were far beneath me; bathed in light,
They gathered midway round the wooded height,
And, in their fading glory, shone
Like hosts in battle overthrown.
As many a pinnacle, with shifting glance.
Through the gray mist thrust up its shattered lance,
And rocking on the cliff was left
The dark pine blasted, bare, and cleft.
The veil of cloud was lifted, and below
Glowed the rich valley, and the river's flow
Was darkened by the forest's shade,
Or glistened in the white cascade;
Where upward, in the mellow blush of day,
The noisy bittern wheeled his spiral way.
I heard the distant waters dash,
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poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Strange entity
Why our love became strange entity?
Was it lacking honesty and of poor quality?
I have no answer but certainly it did good damage
It went out of control and shamed the age
We used to swear by god's name
That we shall remain together and one
No one would dare to separate us
That much confidence I had with trust
Some sort of tsunami struck our love land
We turned foes from known friend
He took vow not to see me again
It caused me heavy and unbearable pain
I was with you from childhood
The love groomed from neighborhood
I wished to be your partner forever
Now we are no where to it or near
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poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Red Book
The way of what is to come are the dreams of a man made mad by some
Things rambling's converge on one point that's spread across time
And through space in the face of a race that never tires the mind
Your business of demons surrounding the fortress, pitching their
forks
Ringing in chorus
As one great big howling moon armored to the teeth
Talking to no one where no words can speak
The truth buried beneath the conscious mask worn by the shadow willing to bask
In vast flasks concentrated with sunlight
But
Graciously bows out
Then gouges its eyes out
To watch itself sleep tight in the dark wake of the night
During firefights between shattered thoughts scattered thoughtlessly with banality
Midway beyond the mayhem of a blood-soaked mentality
Where screaming monsters are routinely ignored by the maniacs of reality
And each of its variations
Softly serenading
All of the bats in the belfry until they fly out and start separating
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poem by P.R. Prosper
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The Phoenix
Working against heavy odds
A little hovel, he did build
In a verdant stretch of fertile land
Off the noisy, frenzied crowd
With sheaves of hay, he thatched its roof
With reed and bamboo, its walls were made
With mud and charcoal, its floor was glazed
With wooden planks, its entrance laid.
At dusk, when birds to their nests depart
And beasts, to their covert burrows and dens
After the days toil, weary and weak
He curls into the cozy comfort of his home
Through months and years, it gave him succour
Sheltered him from storm and rain
Made him differ from the gypsy tribe
Lent him a footing in this populous world
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poem by Valsa George
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Crossing the Grand Sierras
All aboard! all aboard!
The hissing breath of the iron steed
Proclaims his wish to be quickly freed;
And soon as the stroke from the bell we hear,
He springs at the touch of his engineer,
And a way we glide
O'er prairies wide,
Through verdant vales,
And mountain dales,
To the last great chain,
Which has striv'n in vain
With the Lightning! the Lightning!
the Lightning Palace Train.
Forgetting far Atlantic,
And midway scenes romantic,
We scale the peaks gigantic,
Which guard the Land of Gold:
Here silver rills are leaping,
Here lovely lakes are sleeping,
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poem by Henry Clay Work
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Lillie of the Snowstorm
To his home, his once white, once lov'd cottage,
Late at night, a poor inebriate came;
To his wife, the waiting wife and daughter
Who for him had fann'd the midnight flame.
Rudely met, they answer'd him with kindness --
Gave him all their own untasted store;
'Twas but small, and he with awful curses,
Spurn'd the gift, and drove them from the door.
While the storm, the wild wild wintry tempest,
Swept across the prairies cold and white;
What a shame that Lillie and her mother
Were abroad on such a fearful night!
Far across the prairie stood a dwelling,
Where from harm they oft had found retreat;
Thither now, all brave and uncomplaining,
Did they urge their weary, wayworn feet.
But their strength, unequal to their courage,
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poem by Henry Clay Work
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In Memoriam Matris
IN my hot youth I rashly penned
A Sonnet of the After-life.
It was the time of stress and strife
Through which the ardent soul must wend.
It was the Spring-time of my days,
When Doubt, like an inspired sage,
With creeds did eager warfare wage,
And looked with scorn on ancient ways.
But gazing back across the years
That separate my youth from me,
These words and thoughts now seem to be
All dim, as through a mist of tears.
For then I saw, with eager eyes,
A coming world where joy would reign,
And evil pass away, and pain,
When man was rid of priestly ties.
While now I turn a backward gaze
On visions fled, and vanished hours,
On dead dry leaves and perished flow'rs,
That make the story of my days.
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poem by Arthur Patchett Martin
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To A Friend Who Had Declared His Intention Of Writing No More Poetry
Dear Charles! whilst yet thou wert a babe, I ween
That Genius plunged thee in that wizard fount
High Castalie: and (sureties of thy faith)
That Pity and Simplicity stood by.
And promised for thee that thou shouldst renounce
The world's low cares and lying vanities,
Steadfast and rooted in the heavenly Muse,
And washed and sanctified to Poesy.
Yes -- thou wert plunged but with forgetful hand
Held, as by Thetis erst her warrior son:
And with those recreant unbaptized heels
Thou'rt flying from thy bounden minist'ries--
So sore it seems and burthensome a task
To weave unwithering flowers! But take thou heed:
For thou art vulnerable, wild-eyed boy,
And I have arrows mystically dipt,
Such as may stop thy speed. Is thy Burns dead?
And shall he die unwept, and sink to earth
'Without the meed of one melodious tear?'
Thy Burns, and Nature's own beloved bard,
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poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
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To The Rainbow
Triumphal arch, that fill'st the sky
When storms prepare to part,
I ask not proud Philosophy
To teach me what thou art; -
Still seem; as to my childhood's sight,
A midway station given
For happy spirits to alight
Betwixt the earth and heaven.
Can all that Optics teach unfold
Thy form to please me so,
As when I dreamt of gems and gold
Hid in thy radiant bow?
When Science from Creation's face
Enchantment's veil withdraws,
What lovely visions yield their place
To cold material laws!
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poem by Thomas Campbell
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The Will Of Our Great People
For centuries now our nations,
Have defended against attack,
Woe betide our aggressors,
When we start fighting back.
The Japanese in forty one,
Attacked your naval fleet,
They thought that this would bring you down,
They thought you could be beat.
But you rose up from the ashes,
To the Battle of Midway,
You sent them home to think again,
My God, they were made to pay.
The Germans bombed Britain ruthlessly,
They thought we would give in,
But we fought on and won the day,
It was a battle we knew we'd win.
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poem by Bri Mar
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