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Stanzas For Music: There's Not A Joy The World Can Give

There's not a joy the world can give like that it takes away
When the glow of early thought declines in feeling's dull decay;
'Tis not on youth's smooth cheek the blush alone, which fades so fast,
But the tender bloom of heart is gone, ere youth itself be past.

Then the few whose spirits float above the wreck of happiness
Are driven o'er the shoals of guilt, or ocean of excess:
The magnet of their course is gone, or only points in vain
The shore to which their shivered sail shall never stretch again.

Then the mortal coldness of the soul like death itself comes down;
It cannot feel for others' woes, it dare not dream its own;
That heavy chill has frozen o'er the fountain of our tears,
And though the eye may sparkle still, 'tis where the ice appears.

Though wit may flash from fluent lips, and mirth distract the breast,
Through midnight hours that yield no more their former hope of rest,
'Tis but as ivy-leaves around the ruined turret wreath—
All green and wildly fresh without, but worn and grey beneath.

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poem by Byron
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Home

There is a land, of every land the pride,
Beloved by heaven, o'er all the world beside;
Where brighter suns dispense serener light,
And milder moons emparadise the night;
A land of beauty, virtue, valour, truth,
Time-tutor'd age, and love-exalted youth;
The wand'ring mariner, whose eye explores
The wealthiest isles, the most enchanting shores,
Views not a realm so bountiful and fair,
Nor breathes the spirit of a purer air.
In ev'ry clime the magnet of his soul,
Touch'd by remembrance, trembles to that pole;
For in this land of heaven's peculiar grace,
The heritage of nature's noblest race,
There is a spot of earth, supremely blest,
A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest,
Where man, creation's tyrant, casts aside
His sword and sceptre, pageantry and pride,
While in his soften'd looks benignly blend
The sire, the son, the husband, brother, friend:

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poem by James Montgomery
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The Released Rebel Prisoner

June, 1865

Armies he's seen--the herds of war,
But never such swarms of men
As now in the Nineveh of the North--
How mad the Rebellion then!

And yet but dimly he divines
The depth of that deceit,
And superstitution of vast pride
Humbled to such defeat.

Seductive shone the Chiefs in arms--
His steel the nearest magnet drew;
Wreathed with its kind, the Gulf-weed drives--
'Tis Nature's wrong they rue.

His face is hidden in his beard,
But his heart peers out at eye--
And such a heart! like a mountain-pool

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poem by Herman Melville
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Witch

Eyes, rivulets of red that run beneath a canopy
Of green-tinged lashes –
Tear blood playing on the grey-white skin,
Stretched across the twin peaks of cheekbone.

That slender pillar of a neck –
Magnet of eroticism, blinds to
Veins gorging on the flesh,
Dancing under pulse of blood –
Or whatever pumps inside.

Coal-black lips word intentions –
Castigations – variations of the horror
She was born to be.

O the hair! – a flame-orange avalanche
Thundering down to Hell
Where seething mounds of torn bodies lost their souls
To viler wants and fouler holes of
Scatological minds.

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Happy Valley

I was dreaming in happy valley
People called it foolish move and silly
Yes I opted for it and now sink with desire
I praise his presence and all the time admire

He touched me only once
I felt it as divine touch with chance
It had come all the way to me by surprise
'I shall stand by it' he whispered in ears with promise

I am no more on this earth
It has spelled magic with new birth
I was never before in such stage
He had put some letters on page

I want to forget
But things are not allowing me to let
Mind is restless and devil's house
I bear ill will and grouse

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poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Tony Hoagland

and yes even the photo
on the back cover
as if he’d gone to the studio,
said, I’ve written this book
of seriously funnily serious verse so
make me into a randy curate
in a dropped-trouser farce
or OK like a real cleric then
looking sideways over his spectacles
as he drops a wicked line in his sermon
and the packed front pews of ladies
of a certain uncertain age
quiver with a well-dressed lust,
and yes, highlight my bald dome,
I liked the Dr Doolittle stories didn’t you,

and that hair like a classroom demo
of iron filings standing to attention on
a ball magnet, or if we’re trying
to match his humour, you noticed then,

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poem by Michael Shepherd
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Catherine

Some, as many other find Ashley’s beauty strikingly stunning
Most of these things I freely feel and admit.
I find Ashley to be attractive, tall, slender, and regal of fair complexion
But stunning? No!
I deny it, the girl is scarcely venomous
There is not a morsel of spice in all the length of her body
Not a pinch of love’s enticing in her character
Not a pint of elusive excitement in her personality
Now, Catherine is stunning
For Catherine’s beauty is rare and total
And by that sum all women are diminished
This walking beauty overshadows any feminine stature
A magnet of men, has she not plundered woman’s head of all its graces
Flaunting them as her adornments
Regard her as she walks a beauty in elegance
Listen to her as she talks, a sophisticated wisdom
Her smile, her style, her laugh, her fret
Her look when she rebukes
Is an expression of a fashion
Dream her face as she sleeps

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poem by Isaac Ziv
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Astronomer

I wander all alone and play with pebbles on the beach,
and wonder at the Milky Way which other men may reach.
Though thither I won’t wend my way, I try my best, I teach
to others how the planets play; upon their orbits preach.

What seems a complex interplay of matter dark and light,
as magnet must attract â€" I stay for days before stars bright
a billion light years far away, and find therein delight,
dwell on gravitational sway on how mankind well might
discover, reinvent, doorway beyond the Moon and Mars,
and foray further far to lay its seed among the stars.

From Hubble's bubble telescope to images online,
from NASA exploration's scope and information mine,
to Voyager myope, the mind curves off from fixed straight line -
thought processes must cope with dark hole, quasar, quark or dine
on solar storm or grope with RNA's helix grapevine
unknown to sect or pope or falsehood's pantomime,
to those who slouch about and mope, ignoring the sublime.
Imagine bio-allotropes which ‘human’ redefine,

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poem by Jonathan Robin
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America

Freedoms gravity dressed for the oppressed,
Long sailed to liberty’s harbour,
This land drinks the stream of new lifers,
So many souls on the path of opportune.

Since the constitution, amendments,
Washington, Lincoln’n’Kennedy
Forged hope to turn to reality the
Magnet that bonds a cosmopolitan nation.
.

Doughnuts’n’flapjacks coffee in the morn’,
The Irish policeman paces the square of time,
As the street of walls mints out money
To build route sixty-six to way out west.

The shining star of Hollywood and vine is
Far out shone by Capital hill,
As the plague of apartheid forever sealed
In darkened cage by a humanitarian bill.

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poem by Ken e Hall
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Aurobindo 60 Savitri Book 3

An appreciation on Savitri-
Book 3-The Book of the Divine Mother
Canto Two: The Adoration of the Divine Mother
Words within inverted commas are Aurobindo's

'The Formless and the Formed were joined in her: '
'At the head she stands of birth and toil and fate,
In their slow round the cycles turn to her call; '
'She is the golden bridge, the wonderful fire.
The luminous heart of the Unknown is she,
A power of silence in the depths of God; '
'She is the Force' fierce and tranquil in every make
And 'The magnet of our difficult ascent, '..

'All Nature dumbly calls to her alone
To heal with her feet the aching throb of life
And break the seals on the dim soul of man
And kindle her fire in the closed heart of things.'
A sparkiling seed sown to first yell ma...in nature
'All here shall be one day her sweetness' home,

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poem by Indira Renganathan
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