Quotes about satire, page 12
Preface
First, plain speech in the mother tongue.
Hearing it, you should be able to see
Apple trees, a river, the bend of a road,
As if in a flash of summer lightning.
And it should contain more than images.
It has been lured by singsong,
A daydream, melody. Defenseless,
It was bypassed by the sharp, dry world.
You often ask yourself why you feel shame
Whenever you look through a book of poetry.
As if the author, for reasons unclear to you,
Addressed the worse side of your nature,
Pushing aside thought, cheating thought.
Seasoned with jokes, clowning, satire,
Poetry still knows how to please.
Then its excellence is much admired.
But the grave combats where life is at stake
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poem by Czeslaw Milosz
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Lines Written In Windsor Park
These verses appeared with Churchill's name to them in the London
Magazine for , and there is no reason to doubt their being
genuine.
When Pope to Satire gave its lawful way,
And made the Nimrods of Mankind his prey;
When haughty Windsor heard through every wood
Their shame, who durst be great, yet not be good;
Who, drunk with power, and with ambition blind,
Slaves to themselves, and monsters to mankind,
Sinking the man, to magnify the prince,
Were heretofore, what Stuarts have been since:
Could he have look'd into the womb of Time,
How might his spirit in prophetic rhyme,
Inspired by virtue, and for freedom bold,
Matters of different import have foretold!
How might his Muse, if any Muse's tongue
Could equal such an argument, have sung
One William, who makes all mankind his care,
And shines the saviour of his country there!
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poem by Charles Churchill
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Reason behind liking
There is reason behind every liking
You catch the idea and it must be striking
Not necessarily a comment or length praise
But a serious thought for poets to chase
Write nicely or face the ire
Applaud and honor when we admire
Your poems may contain pain and satire
Definitely readers are key players
How does an actor know the art?
When there is nothing new to start?
There is lot more to improve
When readers write or disprove
Encourage and put reason with logic
It is good test and real basic
If you write and comment
It will be blessings as if heavenly send
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poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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No More Sad Goodbyes
More Sad Goodbyes
Written by: Wilfred Mellers, Saturday, February 18,2012
Go ahead and leave if you want to
You'll never find another as true
No one that will worships you like I do
In this life I would have comforted you
Another love you may fine but not like mine
You will regret one day the love you left behind
Gave you all that I could give
I suffered so you could live
I held you up so high
You gave me wings that I could fly
For you anything I would've tried
For you my love I would died
Our life has been a complete satire
A meager donkey in elegant attire
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poem by Wilfred Mellers
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It is me
It is me
I have found the key
The treasure is within my reach
I shall lay hand on you to teach
Come along, walk with me and stay
As I won't allow you to go away
Think seriously of becoming mine
You will always feel fine
Relation hangs on balance
Give respect and take it at once
Love to live with ideals and integrity
That shall prove your worth and ability
You are just like rose flower
Only of its kind with magic power
I know about your being in special position
As other flowers are fine but not with beautiful composition
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poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Life is an Allusion
Life is an allusion.
She’s a wicked witch. He’s a nasty Grinch.
We can’t be placed into a genre.
We’re as unchanging as the seasons.
A basic simile.
The inference that we all make on a daily basis is not intelligent at all.
Completely different.
Everything we do is somehow a complete satire.
The opposite; almost like irony which we’re surrounded by everyday.
An incoherent, figurative language is spoken,
We never know what to say or do.
Is it literal or not.
Life is alliteration in the making.
Anxiously awaiting another annihilation announcing another abomination.
Life is assonance going on and on.
Slowly suppressing something sliding sullenly, sickeningly into our hearts.
The metaphors by which we live are incredulous.
She is the light in my sky.
He is the heart inside of me.
The idioms are even more surprising.
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poem by Vanessa Kingsley
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Nice to dream
It is nice to have dreams and admire
Must not remain joke and subject to satire
Beautiful heart is meant to beat faster
Seeing upon a beauty must burst in laughter
Yes there may be lovely lady
Who in turn may be ready?
Life may soon prove as boom
There is every possibility and has spacious room
It is not the beauty only to be pursued and find
Nature may also appeal and should be kept in mind
Lot many people may opt for service to motherland
Everyone is alike to them and considered as friend
World is not limited and has larger meaning
Love has its first start and good beginning
It is gift from heaven and we may flow in it
We get spontaneous urge when inspire to greet
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poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Top Shirts Are Ironed In A Big Shot Style
Top shirts are ironed in a big shot style
Disinfected fingers disinfected smile
Hand in hand polished policies acquire
Cliff cut hairs when the straights are dire
Tuxedo models in top toxic fashions
Red catwalk marches upon the blood
Is it possible to fulfill the passions
Of mud stained shoes diving in the mud?
‘Politics- they never pose naked’
Sure Vishnya true they always fake it.
Regardless of country tzardom or empire
It’s always the same blood sucking vampire
Old tzars hanging in emperor’s new clothes
Germany, Russia, America…or new
Nutsi Nazi, Comrade Parade, Yankee Hankies… or who
Old aristocracy playing democracy
Playing on the earth playing on the moon
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poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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In Days Of Old
I listen to the stories
grandmother told,
from legends of old
fables worn out,
I hear them
over and over,
politely listen,
though they seldom vary
sometines i wonder
if even she is bored,
or is it the legacy of her time,
imposed to report,
she holds on with
a tenacity, that the past
will not fade or dim,
nor bow to medias of great din
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poem by Shimon Weinroth
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To leave for moment
Why not to leave for a moment?
All bitterness to be pushed back and sent
To its original place
With love only to replace
I am not super man
Ordinary and simple human
Wants to spend rest of life in peace
Not seek revenge and live completely at ease
What is root cause of evil desire?
Why are we subjected to satire?
Why do we carry always prejudice?
Does that strengthen our need or suffice?
It is not practicable to miss bad side
It is prevalent and seen very wide
No one has escaped so far from its dragnet
It may remain there till the end of planet
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poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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