Quotes about midway, page 6
A true guide
I love to stay with you forever
Because from you I have learnt
To ignore my weakness and accomplish
My task handsomely
You have guided me to attain my aim
Your guidance is like a lamp in the midway
Lest the passerby should stumble
Your nature is like a shadowy tree
Under it I am relieved of my fatigue
In your beautiful eyes,
I see an ocean of love surging for me
On your lips, I hear only my name
You have changed the course of my life
You have led me to the right path
You have taught me how to face the challenges in life
You are an integral part of my life
You are my never failing consience.
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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Darkness And Light
i would like to arrive not at the point
when darkness and light
chase and fight each other
when they grapple with who's right
and who's fit to survive
on the cycle of life
i like to arrive at the time when
they stop and arrive at a compromise
to live in peace together
not that the light stays on the right
not that darkness stays on the left
for that would still be divisive
i like them fuse into a certain hue
so pleasing to the eyes of all confused men
dusk, dawn, a dawning light, grey
the coolness of twilight, midway, between coming and departure
[...] Read more
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In Her Beautiful Hair
Nubile poem on the cleft of an orb—
Silence slips over the curves of a river-
And the strange jewelry that decorates the housewives
Without a sound—
Sandlots of castles of missing cars
And other mouth less amusements—matriculating
To themselves until they happened to believe that
The most fabulous invention of all happens to
Be the hallways of their highschools—
And now if you can picture what joy they are in—
In the strange memory of fishes swimming around
A midway of an unbelievable palace that was
Never there—why then,
A joy to them- a joy to them—
A spark of a firework igniting in her beautiful hair..
poem by Bret R. Crabrooke
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In The Mowed Field
Succession of alphabet: tongue of amphibian
Over a lover’s nipple:
Circus tent of areola sprigged by pubis
In the moonlight coming over
The house too close to the highway:
The rattlesnake flattened across
The road,
Halfway made it underneath the Florida
Holy where the kids have made it
Safely run away:
Across the street from housewives who are now
Lovers—
Adultery in midway daydreams before
The naked bodies of goldfish
Not even worth a dollar:
The television silent besides the Christmas tree:
The lizards in the yard basking like
A statuary of primordial deities:
The cats too sleepy in the mowed field to care.
poem by Bret R. Crabrooke
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Words On The Window-Pane
DID she in summer write it, or in spring,
Or with this wail of autumn at her ears,
Or in some winter left among old years
Scratched it through tettered cark? A certain thing
That round her heart the frost was hardening,
Not to be thawed of tears, which on this pane
Channelled the rime, perchance, in fevered rain,
For false man's sake and love's most bitter sting.
Howbeit, between this last word and the next
Unwritten, subtly seasoned was the smart,
And here at least the grace to weep: if she,
Rather, midway in her disconsolate text,
Rebelled not, loathing from the trodden heart
That thing which she had found man's love to be.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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Love Sonnet 185 My love, speak not to me of yesterday,
My love, speak not to me of yesterday,
Of withered rose and long gone ecstasies,
Neither of dreams nor joys that naught did stay,
But of today, where start new fantasies;
If love must hold against Time's adverse flow,
Whilst outer frills all fade like leaves in Fall,
Embers must blaze for eyes to see their glow,
And sprouts should grow new foliage to install;
Once we awake midway of severed dream,
God only knows if same resumes again,
For love could opt to change horses midstream,
If much wiser than choosing to refrain;
......My Yesterdays are kept, though out of date,
......Which Todays cannot find to emulate.
.
poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes
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Like A Ship That Needs Mending
Pleasantly, your fingers run down the street
Like a barrette in your hair 'laying it down
Over the shoulders of
Your brown midway, doing away with the classroom'
Perfectly contented that your children
Will never graduate high school'
Or the sad roses waiting at your doorstep have
Disappeared along with my drunken footsteps
Upon your rooftop 'or that I've made the
Rooster hold its tongue until it has forgotten
How its instinctual crow'so the daylight breaks silently'
Milky, smoldering, waterfall
Cascades like tumbles of fire over grim amusements'
And you lean into him, like a ship that needs mending
Caressing the dragon that destroyed it.
poem by Bret R. Crabrooke
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On The Same Occasion
(The Final Submission Of The Tyrolese)
YE Storms, resound the praises of your King!
And ye mild Seasons--in a sunny clime,
Midway on some high hill, while father Time
Looks on delighted--meet in festal ring,
And loud and long of Winter's triumph sing!
Sing ye, with blossoms crowned, and fruits, and flowers,
Of Winter's breath surcharged with sleety showers,
And the dire flapping of his hoary wing!
Knit the blithe dance upon the soft green grass;
With feet, hands, eyes, looks, lips, report your gain;
Whisper it to the billows of the main,
And to the aerial zephyrs as they pass,
That old decrepit Winter--'He' hath slain
That Host, which rendered all your bounties vain!
poem by William Wordsworth
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A Joy!
It’s a joy smelling to high heavens
At day’s end, tending my garden
Dressed in mud
Kissed by the sun
It’s a joy singing old tunes
Alone, in a crowd
Loosing the key midway
Pulling it off anyways
It’s a joy dancing naked
Before my most feared critic
Peaking at myself in a
Horror-struck vanity mirror
It’s a joy being silent
When all else profound
A frog, yellow bellied
Dozing off on a lotus leaf
[...] Read more
poem by Deva De Silva
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The Two Masks
Melpomene among her livid people,
Ere stroke of lyre, upon Thaleia looks,
Warned by old contests that one museful ripple
Along those lips of rose with tendril hooks
Forebodes disturbance in the springs of pathos,
Perchance may change of masks midway demand,
Albeit the man rise mountainous as Athos,
The woman wild as Cape Leucadia stand.
II
For this the Comic Muse exacts of creatures
Appealing to the fount of tears: that they
Strive never to outleap our human features,
And do Right Reason's ordinance obey,
In peril of the hum to laughter nighest.
But prove they under stress of action's fire
Nobleness, to that test of Reason highest,
She bows: she waves them for the loftier lyre.
poem by George Meredith
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