Quotes about tune, page 15
~ Désespoir! Pourquoi? ~
~ Désespoir! Pourquoi? ~
Ms. Nivedita
UK
28 March,2010
When you call me
Love finds efflorescence why?
When you echo in my soul
Surge of plaudit effulgence why?
When you tinct me by aureole
Convergence of refulgence why?
I find no time … stay in-tune
With my tune cadence
Vast Universe why
Splurge in my being?
.
Uniqueness is
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poem by Ms. Nivedita Bagchi Spc. Uk.
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Ken Bruce
If ever you're feeling downcast
And thinking it's no use,
Tune in, you'll feel much better
When listening to Ken Bruce.
A jovial sort of chappie
And Scottish through and through;
Working for the B.B.C.
Each day on radio 2.
I used to think that Wogan
Was really very good;
But Kenneth is far better,
It must be in his blood.
He loves a sparring partner
On whom to hone his tongue;
And couldn't find a better one
Than good old Jimmy Young.
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poem by John Carter Brown
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Cortège
Four o'clock this afternoon,
Fifteen hundred miles away:
So it goes, the crazy tune,
So it pounds and hums all day
Four o'clock this afternoon,
Earth will hide them far away:
Best they go to go so soon,
Best for them the grave to-day.
Had she gone but half so soon,
Half the world had passed away.
Four o'clock this afternoon,
Best for them they go to-day.
Four o'clock this afternoon,
Love will hide them deep, they say;
Love that made the grave so soon,
Fifteen hundred miles away:
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poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson
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Our Favourite Tune
She:
Your smiles affect the way I feel beloved
Quite simply, and hush-hush, I tend to swoon.
A slight irregularity of my heartbeat
As we dance in Central Park beneath the moon.
He:
As a token of our love we'll dance forever
We will join in Elmer's song, swinging together.
The audience we'll surprise ~ even mesmerize
As we follow on with dancing steps so clever.
She:
Your glance affects my very soul beloved
I have found the ecstasy~ the kiss of June
Your birthday's very near, I'll write a poem
to fit the pretty notes of Elmer's tune.
He:
Pretty girlies, the birdies with song ever sweet
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poem by Joyce Hemsley
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Making This A Rule Communicated
There are times when it does pay,
To be of a different kind of mind.
With an offering that expands...
Choices unexpectedly for some to find.
Few today are dedicated.
And show themselves to be elated,
With an awakening everyday anticipating...
Love to witness and joy that is shared.
Choosing they do to move from moods to prove,
That...
Everyone has a choice to improve or change their tune,
And...
Dump excuses made with attitudes to refuse.
With...
A shooing them to the curb to boot.
There are those who choose to move from moods to prove,
That...
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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Dancing To The Tune Of Life
the dance of life pulsates
like blood rushing inside our hearts
turning left turning right
we rotate we vibrate
we collide we slide
we tumble we gargle
we dangle we tangle
it does not matter what steps to take
forward or backward
we dance the dance of life to the tune of life
what matters most is we just do it
such a short moment
not meant to be wasted
let us dance before the next moment comes
soon the dance is over
we rest if we must but we can always say
we danced to the tune of life
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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Charley Plays A Tune
Charley Plays a Tune
By Michael Lee Johnson
(Version 4)
Crippled, in Chicago,
with arthritis
and Alzheimer's,
in a dark rented room,
Charley plays
melancholic melodies
on a dust-filled
harmonica he
found abandoned
on a playground of sand
years ago by a handful of children
playing on monkey bars.
He hears bedlam when he buys fish at the local market
and the skeleton bones of the fish show through.
He lies on his back, riddled with pain,
pine cones fill his pillows and mattress;
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poem by Michael Lee Johnson
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The Pallid Cuckoo
Dolefully and drearily
Come I with the spring;
Wearily and cerily
My threnody I sing.
Hear my drear, discordant note
Sobbing, sobbing in my throat,
Weaving, wailing thro' the wattles
Where the builders are a-wing.
Outcast and ostracized,
Miserable me!
By the feathered world despised,
Chased from tree to tree.
Nought to do the summer thro',
My woeful weird a dree;
Singing, 'Pity, ah, pity,
Miserable me!'
I'm the menace and the warning,
Loafing, labour-shy.
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poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Please do not break my little Christmas tree
I hung my loved ones photographs over there.
Oh! They are very far away, on the top
My beloved and myself of teary eyes tangled with jingle bells.
Oh! My Landlord gatecrashed, the Greek,
I nicknamed him as 'Socrates'
He called me on my pseudonym 'Don'.
'Merry Christmas' We both greeted simultaneously.
Secretly I winked to my wife tune the radio little louder
There the music of 'Zorba's dance' goes on.
And I offered him a Greek drink 'Ouzo'.
He had two gulps faster and we danced together to the tune of Zorba.
He left with a friendly smile and thank God he didn't grumble of the rent this time.
I murmured to myself 'Long live my Greek God'.
* To the President, I dreamed him last night he disguised as a Santa Claus and distributed some leaflets door to door regarding the health care reform it seems.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The Vibrant Versifier
Swirling around a crimson rose,
sat a bee writhed in smiles,
on a petal nice with shine,
slipped to her core!
Aha! Slid to her core!
“How dare you come and kiss? ”
Tell me, “ Where from are you thief? ”
Answer didn’t give the swooning bee;
Sank low to quench his thirst with glee.
Buzzing there with bent knee,
smacking on the lips free;
hummed a tune to please the rose;
fainted with a doze.
Aha! Fainted with a doze!
“I’m a honey-maker with verve
and live in that fine hive.
Never tell lies to my love.
To you build a palace in the bough! ”
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poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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