Quotes about hover, page 22
An Epistle
They taught to pray to God
When I was less than five
I prayed to God
to take away my life
Since then I have prayed to him
now and then
to kill me
I am 65 now
Readers I assure you
God if any is surely Deaf
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poem by Dr. Ramesh Chandra Mukhopadhyaya
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I am sorry it is winter now
I am sorry it is winter now,
And you can't hear mosquitoes in the house,
But you reminded yourself
Of the frivolous straw.
The dragonflies hover in the blue sky,
And fashion twirls like a swallow;
A basket on the head,
Or a bombastic ode?
I don't presume to give advice
And useless excuses,
But the taste of whipped cream
And the smell of oranges is forever.
You define everything without thinking,
And things are the worse for it.
What can you do? The most sensitive mind
Is put wholly on the surface.
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poem by Osip Emilevich Mandelstam
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House Wife Affair
I been having my housewife affair for awhile
which my husband doesn't even care about!
They are all performed in the comfort of the home
And I never have to ever dress up, or go out!
These men that live in our home
are Kenmore, and then that other fella, Hover!
They're my kind of secret men!
They are shakers and, real movers!
One takes me around and around the house
as he sweeps me across, clean floors!
The other pampers my clothes in bubbles
and sometimes, even helps me, clean above the doors!
Then one can be as cold as ice!
But does take me to the kitchen to dine.
And sometimes makes me coffee
Aromas, waking me up, before the stoke of nine.
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poem by Linda Winchell
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On The Brink
There may be some iron reason
some beastly words
which will hover above
and unconfound my mind
cleanse away uncertainty
allow me the peace of a predictable tomorrow.
I am hungry for that peace
and terrified chaos is my inevitable destiny.
Some days I feel the slippery slide beneath me
balanced only by blinding faith
rescued at times by the kiss from you;
other times lashed to hopes and plans
I stagger through
ignorant, not sure, full of guarded faith
pregnant with determinations, a pocketful
of supports and dreams
wild resentments and hidden desires.
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
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God
The Boundless Ocean of Brilliance
That lends the stars dazzling light
Whom obey flakes of the watery clouds,
Riding on the back of moving wind.
The Secret Hand that wrings them,
Pouring down waters on the soil.
That brings forth vitality all around,
Incarnates life from the objects lifeless.
Being that gurgles out the fountains,
From the womb of the Earth to quench,
Thirst of the parched dry throats.
Chief Host who treats all creatures,
Huge, small and very small,
With what they need to be sustained.
He who fills the petals delicate,
With, sap, colours and fragrance.
Infuses eagerness into flies and moths,
That hover around with ecstatic sway,
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poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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I Can't Promise You
I can't promise you
that dark clouds
will never hover
over our lives
or that the future
will bring us many rainbows.
I can't promise you
that tomorrow
will be perfect
or that life will be easy.
I can promise you
my everlasting devotion,
my loyalty,
my respect,
and my unconditional
love for a lifetime.
I can promise that
I'll always
be there for you,
to listen
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poem by Tijani Adebowale Destiny
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I Can't Promise You
I can't promise you
that dark clouds
will never hover
over our lives
or that the future
will bring us many rainbows.
I can't promise you
that tomorrow
will be perfect
or that life will be easy.
I can promise you
my everlasting devotion,
my loyalty,
my respect,
and my unconditional
love for a lifetime.
I can promise that
I'll always
be there for you,
to listen
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poem by Tijani Adebowale Destiny
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Visitors And Visitations
Up Hillcrest steps to where
the crumbling, grey, defining wall
becomes a bare
and narrow ledge
holding back the jungle of beyond.
Honeysuckle, fern and bramble
slowly amble
and quietly digest
the Hillcrest
fence.
(a peaceful study in impermanence) .
On the boundary hedge,
a green and flowering ivy has blossomed there
in the late summer sun,
and the still air
has turned the ocean
from a surfers’ paradise
into a millpond.
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poem by Brian Taylor
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0030 Motion Picture Features Central Park
The other day in Central Park
a park-keeper said, that urban parks
were motion pictures, before
motion pictures … except that,
they were the picture; you
did the motion…and
I savoured that remark which seemed
to hover on the edge
of poetic profundity and revelation
and, inconsequentially, threw up a vision
of Garbo, Swanson, Crawford, Davis,
taking a quiet winter morning’s walk
behind large dark glasses and an upturned collar;
and my mind, taking too its mental morning stroll
in Central Park, walked with a
new light-hearted springy step, a sparkling eye,
breathing clean fresh cold green air,
the sun catching frost on leaf and
the slow surface of cold lake water,
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poem by Michael Shepherd
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Lebanon IV
Yes, like a glancing star above me
I see and watch the glory of heavens
when they meet the earth with a smile
Indeed, it never had come to me
that I will ever see the beautiful sky
or would ever run again for a free mile
how breathless, how hopeless
surely I'm here tonight
to celebrate the green cedar
and the red ribbons
from below, from above
in such a stormy weather
Baalbek with its highest glory
shall hover over and shall see
the living Libanus with its fury
quake the quake and knock down
stand up Libanus here life will come
in the midst of all the false jury
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poem by Taher Shemaly
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