Quotes about wets, page 6
Traces Of Madness (madman's Song)
You would have said, ship carries us to the water
and wets us in the joys of sail.
And my reason would have raised its voice saying
A ship rather lets us remain dry of the river
And so would have been our fight.
Had there not appeared my madness and being our guide
told our wise ignorance that ship lets us know
that life and death are but two sides of the same coin and
coins cannot buy us more than what we have;
and what we have learnt to own.
Don't question my madness, nor inquire its sources
I shall also not talk of your sorrow and your song's sadness
But if at this greater curiosity greets your heart
know that it is my only inheritance.
I am heir of many lost roads
So my book begins not at a beginning
And I author letters addressed to shelter less souls,
I tell tales those only a traveler knows
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poem by Aman Saa
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The Invitation
BEST and brightest, come away!
Fairer far than this fair Day,
Which, like thee to those in sorrow,
Comes to bid a sweet good-morrow
To the rough Year just awake
In its cradle on the brake.
The brightest hour of unborn Spring,
Through the winter wandering,
Found, it seems, the halcyon Morn
To hoar February born.
Bending from heaven, in azure mirth,
It kiss'd the forehead of the Earth;
And smiled upon the silent sea;
And bade the frozen streams be free;
And waked to music all their fountains;
And breathed upon the frozen mountains;
And like a prophetess of May
Strew'd flowers upon the barren way,
Making the wintry world appear
Like one on whom thou smilest, dear.
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poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Age To Page
'Tis awhile since I last sat and looked at
our generation
My generation
Wouldn't spend a second thinking of the
nation
For 'tis our individual acts that sum up
the whole
Looking now, I seem to find a hole
A poke by a pole
Or perhaps something stronger
May suffice to make us better
And through this piece, I pray God
wiser...Here and there, I incline my ears
to listen to the voice of my brethren
Then and only then
Do my eyes see a problem
There seems to be a paradigm shift
Then I put my pen to paper to give my
generation a lift
A world hugely influenced by movies,
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poem by Jenim Dibie
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The Two Graves
'Tis a bleak wild hill,--but green and bright
In the summer warmth and the mid-day light;
There's the hum of the bee and the chirp of the wren,
And the dash of the brook from the alder glen;
There's the sound of a bell from the scattered flock,
And the shade of the beech lies cool on the rock,
And fresh from the west is the free wind's breath,--
There is nothing here that speaks of death.
Far yonder, where orchards and gardens lie,
And dwellings cluster, 'tis there men die.
They are born, they die, and are buried near,
Where the populous grave-yard lightens the bier;
For strict and close are the ties that bind
In death the children of human-kind;
Yea, stricter and closer than those of life,--
'Tis a neighbourhood that knows no strife.
They are noiselessly gathered--friend and foe--
To the still and dark assemblies below:
Without a frown or a smile they meet,
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poem by William Cullen Bryant
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Post-Modern Culture-Nile Trial in Denial
Post-modern culture lessons few has learned
Years stretched to centuries times forty-eight
Raising structures daring Time's 'dew' date.
Alas tide heralds dust to dust returned,
Mocks mankind's self-pollution coda earned.
Ice cap melt-down Giza, called the Great,
Dares threaten now, its powers bow to Fate,
As boom to bust bricks blow away, wind churned,
Leaves man at sea, too many bridges burned.
Polar pressures crack tectonic plate.
Open options exercised too late
Will mourn lost time when one dawn meets flood stern
Extending over reads, reeds, fern stems drowned,
Returning fallen pride to sea-slush mound.
Post-modern culture, pushy, churns ahead,
Yet spurred by institutions that remain
Resistant to internal change, which train
Ambassadors who vested-interest dread.
Mutant paradox is progress, fed
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poem by Jonathan Robin
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The Queen's Jubilee Celebrations
'Twas in the year of 1897, and on the 22nd of June,
Her Majesty's Diamond Jubilee in London caused a great boom;
Because high and low came from afar to see,
The grand celebrations at Her Majesty's Diamond Jubilee.
People were there from almost every foreign land,
Which made the scene really imposing and grand;
Especially the Queen's carriage, drawn by eight coloured bays,
And when the spectators saw it joyous shouts they did raise.
Oh! if was a most gorgeous sight to be seen,
Numerous foreign magnatss were there for to see the queen;
And to the vast multitude there of women and men,
Her Majesty for two hours showed herself to them.
The head of the procession looked very grand -
A party of the Horse Guards with their gold-belaced band;
Which also headed the procession of the Colonial States,
While slowly they rode on until opposite the Palace gates.
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poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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The Orange-Peel In The Gutter
BEHOLD, unto myself I said,
This place how dull and desolate,
For lovely thoughts how all unmeet,
This drear and darksome London street.
Above, beneath, and all around,
Not one slight crumb is to be found;
Not one so slight poetic crumb
For sparrow-poet to feed upon.
For lo! above there is no sky!
No living blue to glad the eye!
No sun that shines, no flying cloud!
But fog, that in a huge dun shroud
Wraps all the London town about;
And with it comes the drizzling rain,
And dusky houses wets in vain--
It ne'er can wash them white again.
Those houses, yea, how cold and bare,
With self-same aspect stand they there,
With grimy windows two and two,
It makes me sick to look at you!
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poem by Mathilde Blind
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It is the first shower that wets.
Italian proverbs
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Rain wets a leopard's skin, but it does not wash out the spots.
Ghanaian proverbs
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Rain wets the leopard's spots, but it doesn't wash them off.
African proverbs
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