Quotes about lasted, page 29
The Other
I cannot write.
The star is dead.
The poet in me returns to slumber.
So fleeting the instant, so silent the time,
Already Fall slips into December.
The twilight has come.
The end is near.
The final sigh of Winter.
Nature heaves, my heart dies.
Life poised on a balanced whisper.
That cannot fly, is already gone,
Far away, twisted by a convulsive mutter.
I am lost, I am dread,
The illusion so faint, so sweet.
It was said, I once said.
You are mine, I am yours,
In you fulfilled, I drink and meet.
Lost, oh lost, hopelessly lost forever.
Escape, escape, I fly, I run, I go.
On the precipice of dreams, I roam.
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poem by Jeremy Cahoon
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The Exodus
I think it began with the airline strike,
No planes, not in, nor out,
The pilots didn't know who to blame,
‘Not us, ' they said, ‘old Scout! '
‘It must be a Union thing, ' they said,
But then the trains had stopped,
And the truckies set their trucks in a ring
That the diesel tax be dropped.
A city of half a million
Where everyone stayed at home,
Petrol ran out at the bowsers, so
There was nowhere left to roam,
‘It could only happen in Westernport,
This City of the Damned, '
The people moaned, and the airwaves groaned,
And the Internet was jammed.
People were phoning the government
But they weren't returning calls,
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poem by David Lewis Paget
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Nazi Death Squads Enter Eastern Europe
Einsatzgruppen ultimate genocide killing machines
plans so heinous Satan glorified as his SS hells legions;
task forces sowed vile atrocious monstrous Nazi deeds
SS paramilitary death squads systematic mass killings;
originally killing by indifferent civilian herd shootings
typically seek primary target Jews Gypsies Communists;
political categories Polish intellectuals Soviet prisoners
early prey physically mentally handicapped homosexuals;
rabid intolerance eradicated Nazi perceived imperfections
great musical voices minds selected for mass executions;
Einsteins Stephan Hawkings earth rare intolerated genius
unique human diversity frog marched to foul gas chambers;
Einsatzgruppen operated throughout invasion territories
occupied by German armed forces following invasions;
like Poland and the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics
Einsatzgruppen systematically carried out evil operations;
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poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Transfiguration
So from the ground we felt that virtue branch
Through all our veins till we were whole, our wrists
As fresh and pure as water from a well,
Our hands made new to handle holy things,
The source of all our seeing rinsed and cleansed
Till earth and light and water entering there
Gave back to us the clear unfallen world.
We would have thrown our clothes away for lightness,
But that even they, though sour and travel stained,
Seemed, like our flesh, made of immortal substance,
And the soiled flax and wool lay light upon us
Like friendly wonders, flower and flock entwined
As in a morning field. Was it a vision?
Or did we see that day the unseeable
One glory of the everlasting world
Perpetually at work, though never seen
Since Eden locked the gate that’s everywhere
And nowhere? Was the change in us alone,
And the enormous earth still left forlorn,
An exile or a prisoner? Yet the world
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poem by Edwin Muir
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Memorable Cries of Mine
We cry
When we are in pain
Pain can be physiological
Pain can be psychological
As the intensity of
Physiological pain abates
It is likely
The cry associated with it
Dies down
At a rate similar to the
Rate of abatement of pain
As we mature
We develop the tact of
Bearing a pain
Practically not crying over it
Psychological hurt
Stays long
As an emotional scar
And has the power to
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poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Playing A Host For You
Last night I had a sweet dream, a dream of all times,
It lasted for hundreds of seconds or as I would like to believe
That it was lingering like the moon even after the dawn.
My dream still floats on mind like a feather.
Here it is… MY DREAM AS IT IS TOLD TO YOU.
In the dream dear friends, you may know for a change
I played the role of a very shy host with a small smile
And all of you my poet friends, were my guests from far off lands
Or most of you perhaps came from the lands beyond our hills.
I had not invited all of you, but they too came, A BIG 'THANK YOU'.
I made dishes of no known lands for you.
The powder of wheat and barley I used,
I mixed them with chilly, ginger and salt.
I cut for you bitter gourd, lentils and cabbage
And cooked my mix till you all came!
No dates, no eggs; nor their parents
No salmon; nor sardine too,
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poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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To the Reverend George Coleridge, of Ottery St. Mary, Devon
A blessed lot hath he, who having past
His youth and early manhood in the stir
And turmoil of the world, retreats at length,
With cares that move, not agitate the heart,
To the same dwelling where his father dwelt;
And haply views his tottering little ones
Embrace those aged knees, and climb that lap,
On which first kneeling his own infancy
Lisped its brief prayer. Such, O my earliest friend!
Thine and thy brothers' favorable lot.
At distance did ye climb life's upland road,
Yet cheered and cheering: now fraternal love
Hath drawn you to one centre. Be your days
Holy, and blest and blessing may ye live!
To me th' Eternal Wisdom hath dispensed
A different fortune and more different mind.--
Me from the spot where first I sprang to light,
Too soon transplanted, ere my soul had fixed
Its first domestic loves; and hence through life
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poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
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Battle Of Brunanburgh
Athelstan King,
Lord among Earls,
Bracelet-bestower and
Baron of Barons,
He with his brother,
Edmund Atheling,
Gaining a lifelong
Glory in battle,
Slew with the sword-edge
There by Brunanburh,
Brake the shield-wall,
Hew'd the lindenwood,
Hack'd the battleshield,
Sons of Edward with hammer'd brands.
Theirs was a greatness
Got from their Grandsires--
Theirs that so often in
Strife with their enemies
Struck for their hoards and their hearths and their homes.
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poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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To The Rev. George Coleridge
Notus in fratres animi paterni.
Hor. Carm. lib.II.2.
A blesséd lot hath he, who having passed
His youth and early manhood in the stir
And turmoil of the world, retreats at length,
With cares that move, not agitate the heart,
To the same dwelling where his father dwelt;
And haply views his tottering little ones
Embrace those agéd knees and climb that lap,
On which first kneeling his own infancy
Lisp'd its brief prayer. Such, O my earliest Friend!
Thy lot, and such thy brothers too enjoy.
At distance did ye climb Life's upland road,
Yet cheered and cheering: now fraternal love
Hath drawn you to one centre. Be your days
Holy, and blest and blessing may ye live!
To me the Eternal Wisdom hath dispens'd
A different fortune and more different mind—
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poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
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Report from the Besieged City
Too old to carry arms and fight like the others -
they graciously gave me the inferior role of chronicler
I record - I don't know for whom - the history of the siege
I am supposed to be exact but I don't know when the invasion began
two hundred years ago in December in September perhaps yesterday at dawn
everyone here suffers from a loss of the sense of time
all we have left is the place the attachment to the place
we still rule over the ruins of temples spectres of gardens and houses
if we lose the ruins nothing will be left
I write as I can in the rhythm of interminable weeks
monday: empty storehouses a rat became the unit of currency
tuesday: the mayor murdered by unknown assailants
wednesday: negotiations for a cease-fire the enemy has imprisoned our messengers
we don't know where they are held that is the place of torture
thursday: after a stormy meeting a majority of voices rejected
the motion of the spice merchants for unconditional surrender
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poem by Zbigniew Herbert
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