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Dining Table

A lavish dinner has arisen from the depths of cookery,
One blade is too many, one knife can cut and kill.
The food of heaven is a dish too fine, and plenty
Of it is causing the belly to be satisfied, with the mind at ease.

The supper is splendid of course, sumptuous,
So splendid, and it hurts inside the mouth with the tongue.
So much has been fulfilled lately, that I cringe,
And I mutter to myself the illnesses all absent.

A dinner is a food collected by cooks, eaten by heroes,
The many who dine are liking comfort and heat.
The table is abolished as we see it be empty
And more like a table too dirty, once too full.

poem by Naveed Akram
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The Jumper

He swayed on top of the tall tower
and braved a cold Chicago shower.
His bank accounts were in arrears
the biggest sum was owed to Sears.

So, fittingly, he'd wisely chosen
Sears Tower, now he was half frozen.
And, as he tried to catch the mood
he smelled a whiff of Polish food.

It had arisen from the city,
and what a godforsaken pity!
Could he not go and have a last
hot sausage? It would be a blast.

A helicopter now was drifting
across the windy city's shifting
and pregnant clouds, it hovered loudly.
So, he decided, he would, proudly,
head down below to get a taste.

[...] Read more

poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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Philip Massinger: V

CLOUDS here and there arisen an hour past noon
Chequered our English heaven with lengthening bars
And shadow and sound of wheel-winged thunder-cars
Assembling strength to put forth tempest soon,
When the clear still warm concord of thy tune
Rose under skies unscared by reddening Mars
Yet, like a sound of silver speech of stars,
With full mild flame as of the mellowing moon.
Grave and great-hearted Massinger, thy face
High melancholy lights with loftier grace
Than gilds the brows of revel: sad and wise,
The spirit of thought that moved thy deeper song,
Sorrow serene in soft calm scorn of wrong,
Speaks patience yet from thy majestic eyes.

poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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London Poets

(In Memoriam.)

They trod the streets and squares where now I tread,
With weary hearts, a little while ago;
When, thin and grey, the melancholy snow
Clung to the leafless branches overhead;
Or when the smoke-veiled sky grew stormy-red
In autumn; with a re-arisen woe
Wrestled, what time the passionate spring winds blow;
And paced scorched stones in summer:--they are dead.

The sorrow of their souls to them did seem
As real as mine to me, as permanent.
To-day, it is the shadow of a dream,
The half-forgotten breath of breezes spent.
So shall another soothe his woe supreme--
"No more he comes, who this way came and went."

poem by Amy Levy
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Ch 07 On The Effects Of Education Story 12

One year discord had arisen in a caravan among the walking portion and I also travelled on foot. To obtain justice we attacked each other’s heads and faces, giving full vent to pugnacity and contention. I saw a man sitting in a camel litter and saying to his companion: ‘How wonderful! A pawn of ivory travels across the chess-board and becomes a farzin, and the footmen of the Haj travelled across the whole desert only to become worse.’

Tell on my part to the man-biting Haji
Who tears the skins of people with torments:
Thou art not a Haji but a camel is one
Because, poor brute, it feeds on thorns and bears loads.

poem by Sa di
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Lord of the 25th Universe

The power of the almighty dollar,
Has been crushed and vanished.
And the Land of Fantasies...
Has issued the last of citations,
To end and dismiss all delusions!
Those crazed by the shock of reality,
Are sedated...
To slowly free them from their daze!
A truth has arrived upon them.
And the formation of The United Federation,
Of all Earthly nations has arisen.
Joining together to welcome...
Lord of the 25th Universe,
Mungumbé!
As he descends...
From the floating hovering ship.
The width of five miles...
And the length of twenty!
Providing nothing more than cosmic thrills,
To those trying to find this episode referenced...

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Years Gone By

To symbolize a year is to notify the world
Of its influence on the years and centuries housed.
Daylight has occurred and been received on this day,
Inside them the days of the sunlight regress
For the time has travelled ever so slowly.
This year, and next year it will be variously portrayed
As years of strategy, ones for the idle chatter to disappear.
The years are symbols of centuries we define
In the deepest corners of the mind.
In the bigger depths a wonderful speech has arisen
Where ogrish talents are never depicted.
The years of purity outshine them all,
Whether the rides of a park are numerous
Or they still collapse from no fun at all.

poem by Naveed Akram
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Psalm 3

You oh Lord are a shield for me
You are the glory and the lifter of my head
There are many who would rise up against me Lord
There are many who would have me dead

Yet I laid my head down and slept in peace
When ten thousand were all around
They screamed and they howled and they cursed me Lord
When I awoke they were nowhere to be found

You have arisen oh Lord, you have saved me oh God
You have struck all my enemies dead
Salvation belongs in the hands of my God
At Calvary where you died and bled

Victorious you arose from what seemed like defeat
The enemy in complete disaray
You conquered, you vanquished you completly destroyed
Total victory was won on that day.

poem by Frank McEleny
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I Went Down into the Desert

I went down into the desert
To meet Elijah—
Arisen from the dead.
I thought to. find him in an echoing cave;
For so my dream had said.

I went down into the desert
To meet John the Baptist.
I walked with feet that bled,
Seeking that prophet lean and brown and bold.
I spied foul fiends instead.

I went down into the desert
To meet my God.
By him be comforted.
I went down into the desert
To meet my God.
And I met the devil in red.

I went down into the desert

[...] Read more

poem by Vachel Lindsay
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inspiration ***** I AM NOT THE MAN OF FAILURE

Don’t say I am undoer
Don’t tell I didn’t try
I have many endeavors
Success not yet reply

Don’t think I’m just a dreamer
A man who wants to fly
Across heavenly castle
Without single step I try

I am not the man of great loss
I am not the one you think
But yes I am arisen
From chaotic world of pain

I am not the man of failure
Nor the man of success too
I am in midst of challenges
Fighting hindrance foe

[...] Read more

poem by Rommel Mark Dominguez Marchan
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