Quotes about flag, page 56
Silent Peaple
SILENT peaple with a spidery smile,
they are crippled and abandoned by
their very own flag,
storms, that dig six feet under,
storms, that kick and howl, then
settle into a cold bipoler storm,
SILENT peaple with their gigantic
moods, its so simple the sane peaple
say, just tell yourself to get out of
bed, get dressed, and smile on the
way out,
storms, that dig six feet under,
storms, that kick and howl, then
settle into a cold bipoler storm.
poem by David Gerardino
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Smile On The Way Out
SILENT peaple with a spidery smile,
they are crippled and abandoned by
their very own flag,
storms, that dig six feet under,
storms, that kick and howl, then
settle into a cold bipoler storm,
SILENT peaple with their gigantic
moods, its so simple the sane peaple
say, just tell yourself to get out of
bed, get dressed, and smile on the
way out,
storms, that dig six feet under,
storms, that kick and howl, then
settle into a cold bipoler storm.
poem by David Gerardino
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A drop fell on the apple tree
A drop fell on the apple tree
Another on the roof;
A half a dozen kissed the eaves,
And made the gables laugh.
A few went out to help the brook,
That went to help the sea.
Myself conjectured, Were they pearls,
What necklaces could be!
The dust replaced in hoisted roa
The birds jocoser sung;
The sunshine threw his hat away,
The orchards spangles hung.
The breezes brought dejected
And bathed them in the glee;
The East put out a single flag,
And signed the fete away.
poem by Emily Dickinson
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Summer Shower
A drop fell on the apple tree,
Another on the roof;
A half a dozen kissed the eaves,
And made the gables laugh.
A few went out to help the brook,
That went to help the sea.
Myself conjectured, Were they pearls,
What necklaces could be!
The dust replaced in hoisted roads,
The birds jocoser sung;
The sunshine threw his hat away,
The orchards spangles hung.
The breezes brought dejected lutes,
And bathed them in the glee;
The East put out a single flag,
And signed the fete away.
poem by Emily Dickinson
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I Will Not....
i will not be a part
of your wars!
keep your oil wet,
blood stained fingers
off of my throat!
i will not, by actions,
or inaction, be a part,
of that which furthers hunger
and suffering to pad
the pockets of greed.
i will not kill for profit,
will not march to the drum!
i will not believe in your lie,
nor wave your flag!
i will not cast judgements
with prejudicial blows,
i will not take from the poor,
nor dig the graves...
to bury the children
that you never named!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Star of Bethlehem
‘Will you come again? ’
I asked you that evening
Your steps moved silently
Towards the door
The setting sun by then
Stealthily entered through
The door ajar
All set to grab you
The floor under my feet
Felt damp
Dusk, gathering its shadows
The question silently repeated
As silently as the stars that
Revealed themselves
On the fading sky
You turned your head
Standing one step
Outside the door
[...] Read more
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Passing
As Adam Smith and Marx
Prove they’ve outlived their day
One seeks an inner ray –
Enlightenment – whose sparks
Take up fresh flag which marks
In some symbolic way
Creation new, with grey
Exchanged for rainbow arcs.
Can future sing as larks
Songs which rich hearts may sway,
That lighten darkness, pay
Attention to no clerks.
So one Age slips away, -
Yet what tune will the next one play?
28 December 1991 robi3_0522_robi3_0000
Acrostic Sonnet POETIC ECSTASY
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Enigma with Flower
Victory. It has come late, I had not learnt
how to arrive, like the lily, at will,
the white figure, that pierces
the motionless eternity of earth,
pushing at clear, faint, form,
till the hour strikes: that clay,
with a white ray, or a spur of milk.
Shedding of clothing, the thick darkness of soil,
on whose cliff the fair flower advances,
till the flag of its whiteness
defeats the contemptible deep of night,
and, from the motion of light,
spills itself in astonished seed.
poem by Pablo Neruda
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Sense Of Something Coming
I am like a flag in the center of open space.
I sense ahead the wind which is coming, and must live
it through.
while the things of the world still do not move:
the doors still close softly, and the chimneys are full
of silence,
the windows do not rattle yet, and the dust still lies down.
I already know the storm, and I am troubled as the sea.
I leap out, and fall back,
and throw myself out, and am absolutely alone
in the great storm.
Translated by Robert Bly
poem by Rainer Maria Rilke
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The Veteran
When I was young and bold and strong,
Oh, right was right, and wrong was wrong!
My plume on high, my flag unfurled,
I rode away to right the world.
"Come out, you dogs, and fight!" said I,
And wept there was but once to die.
But I am old; and good and bad
Are woven in a crazy plaid.
I sit and say, "The world is so;
And he is wise who lets it go.
A battle lost, a battle won-
The difference is small, my son."
Inertia rides and riddles me;
The which is called Philosophy.
poem by Dorothy Parker
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