Quotes about satire, page 13
Waters dropp down
All sweat waters dropp down
Her face smile and disappear the frown
What a glow on shining face?
Adding joy to take part in race
Lovely to admire and nice to hear
Her words dropp like flower
Sun shine and darken the skin
Many hearts fail as she clearly wins
She has her own elegant style
So many times I dropp in to see her for a while
She has determination do to do worth while
At the same time fall for to walk an extra mile
She has tremendous sense of humor
She will not comment uncalled for
It her greatest asset not to come in lime might
She may go in for cause and fight
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poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Words Spoken
Words spoken to self in isolation
Mystery not in question but in relation
Simple confusion in mind
Forcing others to find out its kind
Yet nice appreciation,
Applause from all over and no more questions
Mind reveals and heart opens
Ripples created and caught by fans
Why do we try to speak our mind?
Is something necessary of that kind?
Why at all you want sympathy?
That people should have soft corner and feel pity
No one has seen you breaking off?
If so, they would have definitely laughed
As you were boosting of your love at all places
All were jealous of you with frown on faces
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poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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To The Memory Of Mr Oldham
Farewell, too little and too lately known,
Whom I began to think and call my own;
For sure our souls were near allied, and thine
Cast in the same poetic mould with mine.
One common note on either lyre did strike,
And knaves and fools we both abhorred alike.
To the same goal did both our studies drive;
The last set out the soonest did arrive.
Thus Nisus fell upon the slippery place,
While his young friend performed and won the race.
O early ripe! to thy abundant store
What could advancing age have added more?
It might (what Nature never gives the young)
Have taught the numbers of thy native tongue.
But satire needs not those, and wit will shine
Through the harsh cadence of a rugged line.
A noble error, and but seldom made,
When poets are by too much force betrayed.
Thy generous fruits, though gathered ere their prime,
Still showed a quickness; and maturing time
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poem by John Dryden
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O! Master
Like in a bird, on an island remote,
Is trapped, the wizards powers, his toll.
Two beings, two different worlds,
My life in a different soul,
Sought more persistent than-over the rocks,
How pounding, the cajoling waves extoll.
If the woods should go bare & birds forsake,
If the fiercest tempest should break,
If the blue sky & soft breeze should retreat,
Or the earth go all damp under my feet,
In wrath, let the heavens keep up their charade,
Yet, I shall rush to keep a promise made.
Nature's vile decree,
the affinity between the flower and the bee,
One to yearn, the other to seek,
To span the distance between the moon and the sea.
Nature's sad satire,
In all girths and measures to conspire,
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poem by Seema joglekar
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Never Tire
I offer prayers each day
When I awake and get ready to play
New game each day of the life with joy
Look at sky with smiling face and enjoy
It has been formed as inseparable part
Prayers are to be offered when the day starts
Who knows when will we be offered grace again?
Life is on going struggle and must sustain the pain
When sun appears over the horizon
The blue water gets nice reflection
Provide us with the golden chance
As if it is to be availed it at once
Sun rays create ripple in the calm water
As if the course is gong to alter
There may be turmoil in coming moments
It has to be watched with heavy movements
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poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Bizarre Satire
Life is bizarre, received a letter
incriminating a State Doctor for
assaulting a patient; subsequent
indictment of another doctor and
all officers at the police station
where she lodged a complaint
Made it clear this person causes
her own problems, she descries
all in self-righteous indignation -
everybody gets angry when she
opens her mouth to spew forth
a stream of poisonous words
A second letter even more absurd, a
patient claiming a psychiatrist tortured
her diagnosing schizophrenia and the
medication prescribed did not agree with
her system, she demands prosecution
for murderous intent…
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poem by Margaret Alice Second
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The Author to His Body on Their Fifteenth Birthday, 29 ii 80
“There’s never a dull moment in the human body.”
—The Insight Lady
Dear old equivocal and closest friend,
Grand Vizier to a weak bewildered king,
Now we approach The Ecclesiastean Age
Where the heart is like to go off inside your chest
Like a party favor, or the brain blow a fuse
And the comic-book light-bulb of Idea black out
Forever, the idiot balloon of speech
Go blank, and we shall know, if it be knowing,
The world as it was before language once again;
Mighty Fortress, maybe already mined
And readying to blow up grievances
About the lifetime of your servitude,
The body of this death one talkative saint
Wanted to be delivered of (not yet!),
Aggressively asserting your ancient right
To our humiliation by the bowel
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poem by Howard Nemerov
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My poems is not Poetry
My Poems are not Poetry
Poetry rhythm is essential part
Communicative act of rhythms
Where words created music
An effect on the reader’s and listener
Words beginning with the same letter
And achieve a poetically effect.
My Poems has no rhythms
For the first time I don’t know
What to say and how to show.
Many words is not my style
Let me say, I like your smile
I don’t think I should like you,
Unfortunately I do.
I'm not sure now how to write
I lost my idea how, where words
Are used in away similar
Creating Music, where you find
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poem by Mary Wismer
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The bond
The real bond has God's blessings
So much close feelings and nothing goes as missing
Two souls get together to fulfill the promises
Life is pulled on nicely with no label of miss
It is necessary to fill the holy bond
You may feel the life as pond
Though with limited world and aspirations
Simple solutions to the emerging challenges and questions
Is that what we aim for and finish the valuable destiny?
Do we go for completely for material gain and money?
If that is the only point for consideration
Then you will find many failures and abrasions
No doubt that may occupy majority of time with options
You may go through impossible ordeals and adoptions
Yet its basic instinct may centre on quick gain
Even though you may be worn out with complete drain
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poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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The LORD and the BRAMBLE
To view his stately Walks and Groves,
A Man of Pow'r and Place
Was hast'ning on; but as he roves,
His Foe the slighted Bramble proves,
And stops his eager Pace.
That Shrub was qualify'd to Bite;
And now there went a Tale,
That this injurious partial Wight
Had bid his Gard'ner rid it quite,
And throw it o'er the Pail.
Often the Bry'r had wish'd to speak,
That this might not be done;
But from the Abject and the Weak,
Who no important Figure make,
What Statesman does not run?
But clinging now about his Waste,
Ere he had time to fly,
My Lord (quoth he) for all your haste,
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poem by Anne Kingsmill Finch
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