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Quotes about mention, page 3

John Milton

Paradise Regained

THE FIRST BOOK

I, WHO erewhile the happy Garden sung
By one man's disobedience lost, now sing
Recovered Paradise to all mankind,
By one man's firm obedience fully tried
Through all temptation, and the Tempter foiled
In all his wiles, defeated and repulsed,
And Eden raised in the waste Wilderness.
Thou Spirit, who led'st this glorious Eremite
Into the desert, his victorious field
Against the spiritual foe, and brought'st him thence 10
By proof the undoubted Son of God, inspire,
As thou art wont, my prompted song, else mute,
And bear through highth or depth of Nature's bounds,
With prosperous wing full summed, to tell of deeds
Above heroic, though in secret done,
And unrecorded left through many an age:
Worthy to have not remained so long unsung.
Now had the great Proclaimer, with a voice

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Byron

Canto the First

I
I want a hero: an uncommon want,
When every year and month sends forth a new one,
Till, after cloying the gazettes with cant,
The age discovers he is not the true one;
Of such as these I should not care to vaunt,
I'll therefore take our ancient friend Don Juan—
We all have seen him, in the pantomime,
Sent to the devil somewhat ere his time.

II
Vernon, the butcher Cumberland, Wolfe, Hawke,
Prince Ferdinand, Granby, Burgoyne, Keppel, Howe,
Evil and good, have had their tithe of talk,
And fill'd their sign posts then, like Wellesley now;
Each in their turn like Banquo's monarchs stalk,
Followers of fame, "nine farrow" of that sow:
France, too, had Buonaparté and Dumourier
Recorded in the Moniteur and Courier.

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Sea Poem

I don‘t want to mention the sea
in this poem, it might come
between us. I'd swim it anyway
to reach your breasts again.
You move me like the sea

on rhythms of syllable lines.
I don't want to mention the sea.
In this poem, love, I'll leave
these words like the pebbles
you find by the edge of the sea.

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No doubts

Carefully screaming for air
Not to mention; who cares
Understandable touch
Bounching too much

Dancing around with unable
Watching you across the table
Your eyes are hunting a leg
Arousing you and i beg
Not to mention the hole
Trying hard to protect my soul

It's easy to connect the wrecks
Reunited the legs
Reinvent a so- called pace
Discover an unfaithfull haze.

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The Music of your Voice

A vase upon the mantelpiece,
A ship upon the sea,
A goat upon a mountain-top
Are much the same to me;
But when you mention melon jam,
Or picnics by the creek,
Or apple pies, or pantomimes,
I love to hear you speak.

The date of Magna Charta or
The doings of the Dutch,
Or capes, or towns, or verbs, or nouns
Do not excite me much;
But when you mention motor rides -
Down by the sea for choice
Or chasing games, or chocolates,
I love to hear your voice.

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Just A Stop To Make A Donation

I feel a cradling within,
The warmness of...
Should I dare to mention this?
The warmness of your va-va-va...
Nesting spot.

I almost forgot what it was like.
Since the last time I was in one,
It was cold as ice.
I shivered to finish the activity.

I feel a cradling within,
The warmness of...
Should I dare to mention this?
The warmness of your va-va-va...
Nesting spot.

And...
I hope this is not,
Just a stop to make a donation!

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To Witness, Learn And Grow

I need not mention,
Those amongst the feeble...
Growing increasingly irritated,
By the light that shines...
Bright,
Upon their decreasing...
Places of darkness.

I need not mention,
To emphasis with wider eyes...
Freed from the limitation of manipulation,
How clear the horizon...
Appears in cloudless skies.

I am only obligated,
To witness, learn and grow.
And all that I know,
From my own experiences...
Needs less to be mentioned.
But more to become aware,

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Sorry Honey

sorry i didnt mention that i slept wit him
sorry i couldnt show you that i loved you the other day
sorry i couldnt tell you how much i loved you, i was too high
sorry i didnt mentioned that im stoned, passed out out back
sorry i couldnt say sorry when i tripped you
sorry i couldnt mention that youre with her
sorry baby i cant be with you but hell, i love you
sorry but i love you
sorry but i care for you
sorry that i cared too much
are you happy now wit her.?
sorry im so sorry

dust, this aint true i am not cheating on you

thanks paul the lion for the idea! ! !

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Death is a taboo word in all realms

when you meet a spirit
please do not mention the word death
for it is a taboo, a sad reminder of god's curse
a tribulant time in the heavens

when you meet a poor ghost
also do not mention the word death
for he was once made to think
he would live forever

and now as a ghost
he does not want to be
disenchanted again with
such unfulfilled dreams
tears have all been shed
and he just wants to wander
in his realm waiting for God's
answer to his plight

when you meet Christ

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The Poem That Speaks Of Nothing

The poem that speaks of nothing
Tells of nothing convoluted at all.
It has no need of metering,
Or of emotions that rise and fall.

The poem that has no content
Lacks subject matter to cover.
So forget the flowers that you sent
To your faithful lover.

The poem devoid of plot
Has no farfetched tale to tell.
There’s no mention of battles fought
Against the very spawn of Hell.

The poem in absence of metaphors
Is not written by someone who will
Tell of reposing forevermore
Or of running naked through the hill.

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