Quotes about doom, page 7
The wind's FURY!
The wind called and spells doom
Manacing against hopes and ripping dreams apart
Chasing them into utter ruin; in no direction per se
I stayed still, watching in dispair
As dreams helplessly slip by....
Being impossible to harness.
The wind called and again, it spells doom
In its fury hopes were humbled
Emotions were wrecked beyond repairs;
Beyond every measure of amends....
I am faintly, weary of its wake
It ravages on recklessly;
Exhausting every spur of faith
The wind called and it spells doom,
Against all; you and i,
As we wrestle against its tide
Our zest is impaired,
Though we hinged on,
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poem by Bolami lawal
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Hot As Cold Wax
Hot as cold wax, blue as the sun.
The forgotten tribes running, running, running.
We are the children of deceit.
We are the unborn ambitions
of love-struck demons
who attacked the
village walls.
Calling for help, screaming for help.
Rushing like snails to doom, to doom, to doom.
Racing cars around a track.
Broken shadows that will
never admit their pain.
Their shallow eyes masking
their glancing vibes.
We are the perfectly formed cells
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poem by Chris G. Vaillancourt
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The Doom Dungeon
From the merciless hands of the rulers to the ruled,
The wind of oppression blow stilly into flesh and bones
So many the minds of plebeians quailed out;
Thus no hope in their faith and amidst many I the orator,
And fears from my eyes like a woman's to fellow plebeians.
In the darkest expires many air in speechless state of mind
But the system is called the freedom of people, by the people and for the people
Yet they keep watch o'er us fierce remote animals in attempt of our freedom,
And I the press given to the freedom of oppression, death and doom.
In speechless will I never expire like fellow plebs,
And not even the zombies will I fear and be speechless.
I speak freedom, equity, fairness against oppression, death and doom;
And unto the dungeon they transited me with their remote machinery
As they could not put out the fire of life in me;
And with their merciless power has dug dungeon for my freedom;
With no one whom I could communicate my thoughts to,
And no one to sympathize with my state of suffering.
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poem by Lightcheerful Briggs
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Aurobindo 89 Savitri Book 6
An appreciation on Savitri-
Book Six: The Book of Fate
Canto One: The Word of Fate
Words within inverted commas are Aurobindo's
'And fortunate the forest hermitage
Where leaving her palace and riches and a throne
My Savitri will dwell and bring in heaven.'
'Or if crouches unseen a panther doom,
If wings of Evil brood above that house,
Then also speak, that we may turn aside
And rescue our lives from hazard of wayside doom
And chance entanglement of an alien fate.'
'And Narad slowly answered to the queen:
'What help is in prevision to the driven? '
'The eternal poet, universal Mind,
Has paged each line of his imperial act; '
'Her eyes are fixed upon her mighty aim;
No cry or prayer can turn her from her path.
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poem by Indira Renganathan
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Lines to Him Who Will Understand Them
THOU art no more my bosom's FRIEND;
Here must the sweet delusion end,
That charm'd my senses many a year,
Thro' smiling summers, winters drear.
O, FRIENDSHIP! am I doom'd to find
Thou art a phantom of the mind?
A glitt'ring shade, an empty name,
An air-born vision's vap'rish flame?
And yet, the dear DECEIT so long
Has wak'd to joy my matin song,
Has bid my tears forget to flow,
Chas'd ev'ry pain, soothed ev'ry woe;
That TRUTH, unwelcome to my ear,
Swells the deep sigh, recalls the tear,
Gives to the sense the keenest smart,
Checks the warm pulses of the Heart,
Darkens my FATE and steals away
Each gleam of joy thro' life's sad day.
BRITAIN, FAREWELL! I quit thy shore,
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poem by Mary Darby Robinson
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The Dole Of Jarl Thorkell
THE land was pale with famine
And racked with fever-pain;
The frozen fiords were fishless,
The earth withheld her grain.
Men saw the boding Fylgja
Before them come and go,
And, through their dreams, the Urdarmoon
From west to east sailed slow.
Jarl Thorkell of Thevera
At Yule-time made his vow;
On Rykdal's holy Doom-stone
He slew to Frey his cow.
To bounteous Frey he slew her;
To Skuld, the younger Norn,
Who watches over birth and death,
He gave her calf unborn.
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poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
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One Four Square Sonnet - Parody Shakespeare Sonnet CXVI
ONE FOUR SQUARE SONNET
Let's not into true marriage of two minds
Admit expedience. Love wears no kid glove
Which falters where fits, altercations, finds
Or ends when dumb observer would remove.
For lo! that marks stark feckless leaver, hark!
Tempest cooks cat's books, stands sturdy shaken,
Here, wild oats sown, dog-star to wandering bark,
Its birth unknown although its bow save bacon.
Since Love fools Time, lip-service cheeky rhyme
Within big spending tickle’s compass come,
O'er years piques havoc wreak, strange phantom mime,
Remaining edgy till wan wedge of doom,
Let be, if error writ, and on me proved,
Dumb see my wit, for no man clever loved.
30 October 1991 revised 14 July 2007 and 1 May 2010
robi03_0467_shak01_0022 PAS_LZX
Parody William SHAKESPEARE 1564_1616 Sonnet CXVI
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poem by Jonathan Robin
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A Sequence of Sonnets on the Death of Robert Browning
I1.
The clearest eyes in all the world they read
.
With sense more keen and spirit of sight more true
.
Than burns and thrills in sunrise, when the dew
.
Flames, and absorbs the glory round it shed,
.
As they the light of ages quick and dead,
.
Closed now, forsake us: yet the shaft that slew
.
Can slay not one of all the works we knew,
.
Nor death discrown that many-laurelled head.
.
The works of words whose life seems lightning wrought,
.
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poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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Podas Okus
Am I waking ? Was I sleeping ?
Dearest, are you watching yet ?
Traces on your cheeks of weeping
Glitter, 'tis in vain you fret ;
Drifting ever ! drifting onward !
In the glass the bright sand runs
Steadily and slowly downward ;
Hushed are all the Myrmidons.
Has Automedon been banish'd
From his post beside my bed ?
Where has Agamemnon vanished ?
Where is warlike Diomed ?
Where is Nestor ? where Ulysses ?
Menelaus, where is he ?
Call them not, more dear your kisses
Than their prosings are to me.
Daylight fades and night must follow,
Low, where sea and sky combine,
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poem by Adam Lindsay Gordon
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The Last Banquet Of Antony And Cleopatra
Thy foes had girt thee with their dead array,
O stately Alexandra! - yet the sound
Of mirth and music, at the close of day,
Swelled from thy splendid fabrics, far around
O'er camp and wave. Within the royal hall,
In gay magnificence the feast was spread;
And, brightly streaming from the pictured wall,
A thousand lamps their trembling lustre shed
O'er many a column, rich with precious dyes,
That tinge the marble's vein, 'neath Afric's burning skies.
And soft and clear that wavering radiance played
O'er sculptured forms, that round the pillared scene
Calm and majestic rose, by art arrayed
In goldlike beauty, awfully serene.
Oh! how unlike the troubled guests reclined
Round that luxurious board! - in every face
Some shadow from the tempest of the mind
Rising by fits, the searching eye might trace,
Though vainly masked in smiles which are not mirth,
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poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
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