In Spring And Summer Winds May Blow – Walter Savage Landor

In spring and summer winds may blow,
And rains fall after, hard and fast;
The tender leaves, if beaten low,
Shine but the more for shower and blast

But when their fated hour arrives,
When reapers long have left the field,
When maidens rifle turn’d-up hives,
And their last juice fresh apples yield,

A leaf perhaps may still remain
Upon some solitary tree,
Spite of the wind and of the rain . . .
A thing you heed not if you see.

At last it falls. Who cares? Not one:
And yet no power on earth can ever
Replace the fallen leaf upon
Its spray, so easy to dissever.

If such be love, I dare not say.
Friendship is such, too well I know:
I have enjoyed my summer day;
‘Tis past; my leaf now lies below.

Summer – John Clare

Come we to the summer, to the summer we will come,
For the woods are full of bluebells and the hedges full of bloom,
And the crow is on the oak a-building of her nest,
And love is burning diamonds in my true lover’s breast;
She sits beneath the white thorn a-plaiting of her hair,
And I will to my true lover with a fond request repair;
I will look upon her face, I will in her beauty rest,
And lay my aching weariness upon her lovely breast.

The clock-a-clay is creeping on the open bloom of May,
The merry bee is trampling the pink threads all day,
And the chaffinch it is brooding on its grey mossy nest
In the white thorn bush where I will lean upon my lover’s breast;
I’ll lean upon her breast and I’ll whisper in her ear
That I cannot get a wink o’sleep for thinking of my dear;
I hunger at my meat and I daily fade away
Like the hedge rose that is broken in the heat of the day.

Any Night – Philip Levine

Look, the eucalyptus, the Atlas pine,
the yellowing ash, all the trees
are gone, and I was older than
all of them. I am older than the moon,
than the stars that fill my plate,
than the unseen planets that huddle
together here at the end of a year
no one wanted. A year more than a year,
in which the sparrows learned
to fly backwards into eternity.
Their brothers and sisters saw this
and refuse to build nests. Before
the week is over they will all
have gone, and the chorus of love
that filled my yard and spilled
into my kitchen each evening
will be gone. I will have to learn
to sing in the voices of pure joy
and pure pain. I will have to forget
my name, my childhood, the years
under the cold dominion of the clock
so that this voice, torn and cracked,
can reach the low hills that shielded
the orange trees once. I will stand
on the back porch as the cold
drifts in, and sing, not for joy,
not for love, not even to be heard.
I will sing so that the darkness
can take hold and whatever
is left, the fallen fruit, the last
leaf, the puzzled squirrel, the child
far from home, lost, will believe
this could be any night. That boy,
walking alone, thinking of nothing
or reciting his favorite names
to the moon and stars, let him
find the home he left this morning,
let him hear a prayer out
of the raging mouth of the wind.
Let him repeat that prayer,
the prayer that night follows day,
that life follows death, that in time
we find our lives. Don’t let him see
all that has gone. Let him love
the darkness. Look, he’s running
and singing too. He could be happy.

The Lament Of The Old Nurse – Aeschylus

Our mistress bids me with all speed to call
Aegisthus to the strangers, that he come
And hear more clearly, as a man from man,
This newly brought report. Before her slaves,
Under set eyes of melancholy cast,
She hid her inner chuckle at the events
That have been brought to pass–too well for her,
But for this house and hearth most miserably,–
As in the tale the strangers clearly told.
He, when he hears and learns the story’s gist,
Will joy, I trow, in heart. Ah, wretched me!
How those old troubles, of all sorts made up,
Most hard to bear, in Atreus’s palace-halls
Have made my heart full heavy in my breast!
But never have I known a woe like this.
For other ills I bore full patiently,
But as for dear Orestes, my sweet charge,
Whom from his mother I received and nursed . . .
And then the shrill cries rousing me o’ nights,
And many and unprofitable toils
For me who bore them. For one needs must rear
The heedless infant like an animal,
(How can it else be?) as his humor serve
For while a child is yet in swaddling clothes,
It speaketh not, if either hunger comes,
Or passing thirst, or lower calls of need;
And children’s stomach works its own content.
And I, though I foresaw this, call to mind,
How I was cheated, washing swaddling clothes,
And nurse and laundress did the selfsame work.
I then with these my double handicrafts,
Brought up Orestes for his father dear;
And now, woe’s me! I learn that he is dead,
And go to fetch the man that mars this house;
And gladly will he hear these words of mine.

Life As A Stage Of Roles – Yusuf Abdulazeez Ojo

Life as stage of roles,
everyone performs when it’s time,
We take new roles as we grow
We take new roles by what we know,
Our performances on each role based on our ability
Could be through faith, status, wealth, beauty, character,
Some take bad roles,
A few take good roles,
In between the entrance and exist, we coexist
we perform our destiny
from entrance to exist we choose our choice,
what we do affects another at work, all linked together,
our present affect, our absent affect,
both the young ones and old ones have many roles to play
Our roles end when we are dead
Certainly,
Best of roles are for Allah, the worst roles aim for world.
Allah shall reward us based on aim. Aamiin

Observatory – Sarah Day

The rattle of wind in sclerophyll
is the murmur of cosmic dust
and particle shift. With each break
in the clouds the queue shuffles
a patient step forward.
Beyond the observatory’s dim glow
bush is black as dark matter tonight;
the distant river is negative space,
and the city on the other side
a scattered galaxy.
Swathed in overcoats against the cold
we wait and wait to put an eye to the telescope.
Through a fish-eye lens
the universe gazes back
into the great eye of humanity
orbiting a mundane star on the outer margins
of the Milky Way, one stella cluster
among the infinite.

Spring Song – Lucy Maud Montgomery

Hark, I hear a robin calling!
List, the wind is from the south!
And the orchard-bloom is falling
Sweet as kisses on the mouth.

In the dreamy vale of beeches
Fair and faint is woven mist,
And the river’s orient reaches
Are the palest amethyst.

Every limpid brook is singing
Of the lure of April days;
Every piney glen is ringing
With the maddest roundelays.

Come and let us seek together
Springtime lore of daffodils,
Giving to the golden weather
Greeting on the sun-warm hills.

Ours shall be the moonrise stealing
Through the birches ivory-white;
Ours shall be the mystic healing
Of the velvet-footed night.

Ours shall be the gypsy winding
Of the path with violets blue,
Ours at last the wizard finding
Of the land where dreams come true.

A Spring Sonnet – Arthur Henry Adams

Last night beneath the mockery of the moon
I heard the suddenly startled whisperings
Of wakened birds settling their restless wings;
The North-east brought his word of gladness, “Soon!”
And all the night with wonder was a-swoon.
A soul had breathed into long-dreaming things;
Some unseen hand hovered above the strings:
Some cosmic chords had set the earth in tune.
And when I rose I saw the Bay arrayed
In her grey robe against the coming heat.
A pulse awoke within the stirring street–
The wattle-gold upon the pavements thrown,
And through the quiet of the colonnade
The smoky perfume of boronia blown.

Spring – Ernst Toller

In spring I go to war
To sing or to die.
What do I care for my own troubles?
Today I shatter them, laughing in pieces.

Oh, Brothers, know that young spring came
In a whirlwind.
Quickly throw off tired grief
And follow her in a host.

I have never felt so strongly
How much I love you, Oh, Germany,
As the magic of spring surrounds you
Amidst the bustle of war.

Truth – Sandra Osborne

There are things
I will never understand.
The pain, the hate that
exists within my life.
There is nothing but time,
there is nothing real.

Truth is a concept,
no one ever sees.
No one ever feels it right,
and inside the truth
are only questions
of pain, of reality,
and a forgoing existence,
that has everyone living
outside the truth
and inside tradition,
opinion and thought.
With all being accepted now.

All truth changes in time…
“Do you remember yesterday?
Was last year the same? ”
In truth, death is reality.

Truth – Vanessa Castello

Inside me, I feel alone,
The world still in motion.
People walking, but I’m the only one who has stopped.
I see me and I feel discussed.
I’m not what people want,
I’m as if handicapped, helpless.
I cry yet no one seems to care,
I try to fit in the world’s puzzle, but I seem too different to fit.
I look deep inside myself and there is pain,
New and old still there growing,
Yet no one sees that part of my fairy tale life.
I want the life that these so-called humans have,
But they just won’t allow me as me.
I want to just jump out of this ugly body of mine,
And stop my pretend life and live my true soul.
Till I start moving in motion with the world,
I will curl up as I am now,
Separated.

The Cranes – Bai Juyi

The western wind has blown but a few days;
Yet the first leaf already flies from the bough.
On the drying paths I walk in my thin shoes;
In the first cold, I have donned my quilted coat.
Through shallow ditches the floods are clearing away;
Through sparse bamboo trickles a slanting light.
In the early dusk, down an alley of green moss,
The garden-boy is leading the cranes home.

Resignation – Bai Juyi

Don’t think of the past;
It only awakens painful regrets.
Don’t think of the future;
It paralyzes with uncertain longings.
Better by day to sit like a sack in your chair;
Better by night to lie like a stone in your bed.
When food comes-open your mouth.
When sleeping comes-shut your eyes.

Poem – Very Early Spring

The fields are snowbound no longer;
There are little blue lakes and flags of tenderest green.
The snow has been caught up into the sky–
So many white clouds–and the blue of the sky is cold.
Now the sun walks in the forest,
He touches the bows and stems with his golden fingers;
They shiver and wake from slumber.
Over the barren branches, he shakes his yellow curls.
Yet is the forest full of the sound of tears…
A wind dances over the fields.
Shrill and clear the sound of her waking laughter,
Yet the little blue lakes tremble
And the flags of tenderest green bend and quiver.

Poem – Early Spring

Harshness vanished. A sudden softness
has replaced the meadows’ wintry grey.
Little rivulets of water changed
their singing accents. Tendernesses,

hesitantly, reach toward the earth
from space, and country lanes are showing
these unexpected subtle risings
that find expression in the empty trees.

Nepal Kam Nepal – Sarubhakta

कालो चट्याङ्गः पीडाका खरपसहरु दुखेर
जीवनका मृत सागरमा
म रोलर कोस्टरका सपनाहरु देख्दैछु
ढापसुङ वस्तीतिर
कठपुतली आत्माहरु
साइवरयुगीन ‘किस्.कम्’ नाट्यरचना गर्दैछन्
संघात तरङ्गः दन्दनाउँदा रथहरु
भुत्याहा जाहाजहरुमा सवार छन्
पग्लिएका ढुङ्गाहरु
कालमसानतिर कल्की अवतारहरु
पर्खिरहेछन्
ए खोई विस्तृत नेपालका सपनाहरु ? के हामी
ब्यूझिसक्यौ र ?
एकीकरणका खुँडाहरु फलामे रक्षाकवच लाएर
व्हेलका दाँतभाँच्न हिडेका छन्
वीरगनः विजुलीबन्दुक
खोई हनुमानध्वजका परिघटनाहरु ?
आउ, फेरि एकपल्ट पत्थरकला बोकेर
जिउँदै शवपरीक्षा हुने वस्ती तिर जाऔं
उः ! वुद्धका कुरा गर्ने वात्सायनहरु
कुरुप सुन्दरीका कुरा गर्दैछन्
ग्राहक पर्खेका मसाज पार्लरहरु
वेवसाइटमा इन्टरनेट फ्रेन्ड फाइन्डरतिर
के हेर्दैछन् ?
‘कामरेड मिटिङमा होइसिन्छ ।’ धनधान्य
कामरेडहरु आश्वस्त छन्
आह ! हामी कसिङ्गर फाल्ने कन्टेनरका खोजीमा कहाँ छौ, कन्टेनर फाल्ने कसिङ्गरका खोजीमा
पो छौं !
काम पाइएन ? त्यसो भए जाऔं टाउकाले टेकेर
विश्वरेकर्ड बनाऔं
जिन्दगी सिङ भाच्चिएका अर्नाहरुको दौड हो
हारे यत्रैसित !
को ठूलो ? सत्रुका हातबाट मारिएका शहीद
कि आफन्तका हातवाट मारिएका शहीद ?
शहीद हुनेहरु सबै निख्रिसकेका छैनन्
यसर्थ विवाद जारी छ
म्यूजियममा हाम्रो इतिहास छ,
विदेशमा हाम्रो वर्तमान छ,
भविष्य हाम्रो कहाँ छ ?
के थाहा ?
हामी राष्ट्रिय निकुञ्जका नेपाली हौं

The Last Smile – John Ruskin

She sat beside me yesterday
With lip and eye, so blandly smiling,
So full of soul, of life, of light,
So sweetly my lorn heart beguiling
That she had almost made me gay
Had almost charmed the thought away
(Which, like the poisoned desert wind,
Came sick and heavy o’er my mind)
That memory soon mine all would be,
And she would smile no more for me.

Night – John Ruskin

Faint from the bell the ghastly echoes fall,
That grates within the grey cathedral tower;
Let me not enter through the portal tall,
Lest the strange spirit of the moonless hour
Should give life to those pale people, who
Lie in their fretted niches, two and two,
Each with his head on pillowy stone reposed,
And his hands lifted, and his eyelids closed.

From many a moldering oriel, as to flout,
Its pale, grave brow of ivy-tressed stone,
Comes the incongruous laugh, and revel shout-
Above, some solitary casement, thrown
Wide-open to the wavering night wind,
Admits its chill, so deathful, yet so kind,
Unto the fevered brow and fiery eye
Of one, whose night hour passeth sleeplessly.

Ye melancholy chambers! I could shun
The darkness of your silence, with such fear,
As places where slow murder has been done,
How many noble spirits have died here
Withering away in yearnings to aspire
Gnawed by mocked hope-devoured by their own fire!
Methinks the grave must feel a colder bed
To spirits such as these, then unto common dead.

Rains Have Come – Amir Khusro

Dear Mom, send my dad across; the rainy season has come.
Oh, dear daughter, how can I?
Your dad’s too old; the rainy season has come.
Dear Mom, send my brother across; the rainy season has come.
Oh, dear daughter, how can I?
Your brother’s too young; the rainy season has come.
Dear Mom, send my uncle across; the rainy season has come.
Oh, dear daughter, how can I?
Your uncle’s too dandy; the rainy season has come.

Power – Marilyn Shepperson

There is a power in taking
But more power in giving
There is a power in revenge
But more power in forgiving
There is a power in destroying
But more power in letting something live
There is a power in denying our true age
But more power in showing that we’ve lived. 

A Tower Of Power – Ben Gieske

We will build a tower
With unbridled spring-water attitudes
Flowing with fires of charity
For all the suffering multitudes
Dispossessed and swallowing poverty
We will give them power

We will build a tower
With lots of windows and no ears
With promises for those who have ceased their quest
For the young and old in years
For those who no longer turn west
We will give them power

We will give them power
Give them tomorrows and rainbows in tomorrow’s flowers
Help them fill pitchers with milk, honey, and cream
Reap the green of crops they have never seen
Shelter them from the cold, black screams
They will scale the tower

We will build a tower
They will scale like goats and soar like eagles
Who climbs higher than these birds? 
They will peer through rose-colored gothic windows
And see the many rainbows of blooming flowers spilling colors
They will have the power

We will build a tower
For those near and far
Those who lost their dreams
Those who ceased the quest
Those no longer traveling west

Our actions will speak louder than words
They will sing the music of the birds
Learn to disregard the terms
Of all their unanswered yearns

Circe’s Power – Louise Gluck

I never turned anyone into a pig.
Some people are pigs; I make them
Look like pigs.

I’m sick of your world
That lets the outside disguise the inside. Your men weren’t bad men;
Undisciplined life
Did that to them. As pigs,

Under the care of
Me and my ladies, they
Sweetened right up.

Then I reversed the spell, showing you my goodness
As well as my power. I saw

We could be happy here,
As men and women are
When their needs are simple. In the same breath,

I foresaw your departure,
Your men with my help braving
The crying and pounding sea. You think

A few tears upset me? My friend,
Every sorceress is
A pragmatist at heart; nobody sees essence who can’t
Face limitation. If I wanted only to hold you

I could hold you prisoner. 

Water Floods – James K. Dyson

modern day in the shade

feels like hazy, blue, pouring rain

sitting under chipmunk filled trees

watching clouds and thinking about fleas

fleas are small but not as tiny

I am fine, but please, don’t mind me

growing tadpoles in the pond

just a patient, won’t take long

alcohol is in my blood

inject an overdose

when water floods

the find is dry

she lied again

I don’t know why?

I do know when.

Valentine – Elinor Morton Wylie

Too high, too high to pluck 
My heart shall swing. 
A fruit no bee shall suck, 
No wasp shall sting.

If on some night of cold 
It falls to the ground 
In apple-leaves of gold 
I’ll wrap it around.

And I shall seal it up 
With spice and salt, 
In a carven silver cup, 
In a deep vault.

Before my eyes are blind 
And my lips mute, 
I must eat core and rind 
Of that same fruit.

Before my heart is dust 
By the end of all, 
Eat it I must, I must 
Were it bitter gall.

But I shall keep it sweet 
By some strange art; 
Wild honey, I shall eat 
When I eat my heart.

O honey cool and chaste 
As clover’s breath! 
Sweet Heaven I shall taste 
Before my death. 

Hope – Krantol Northic


Hope is the sweet, sweet scent
of flowers in the morning
Hope is the cool gentle breeze
on a warm summer’s day
Hope is the knowledge of stability
from a son in mourning
Hope is the bright shining light
keeping the darkness at bay

Hope is the calming warmth
during a cold winter
Hope is the determination
of an athlete on the track
Hope is the potential
of a newborn baby
Hope is the love
between you and me

Hope springs eternal 

A White Christmas – Carla Jean Laglia Esely

Twas the night before Christmas.
With a blanket of white.
That covered the earth all through the night.
The trees sparkled like diamonds.
With a glitter so bright.
That each little twinkle made its own Christmas light.
A hope and a prayer a white Christmas would be.
Awaiting the dawn so all could see.
The beauty and joy a white Christmas does bring.
To the holiday season as carolers sing.
For twas the night before Christmas.
God answered your prayer.
With a blanket of white.
Placed with God’s loving care.” 

Christmas – Julia Ann Moore

Hail the coming holiday,
With a hearty joyous feast,
And drive away sorrow, friends,
For a day or two at least;
Lay all business cares aside,
And make the world resound,
With music and festivals
Throughout our merry town.

May every person in our land
A voice to heaven raise,
And welcome in Christ’s birthday,
With everlasting praise;
Praise Him who died upon the cross,
Our sinning souls to save,
The great Redeemer, Christ our Lord,
That dwells beyond the grave.

We should meet in reverence,
And God’s commands obey,
And make each other happy
Throughout the holiday;
And not forget the orphans,
The aged or the blind,
The rich, the poor and needy,
To each one pray be kind.

May every parent in the land,
Hail Christmas day with joy,
And not forget a present for
Their little girls and boys;
They are looking forth anxiously,
For Santa Claus to come
And fill their little stockings,
With toys and sugar-plumbs.

God grant a merry Christmas eve
And happy Christmas day,
To every person in the land,
At home or far away.
That festive day will soon be here,
Alas, will soon be o’er;
Welcome, welcome the coming of
Christmas day once more. 

To Winter – Eugene O’Neill

“Blow, blow, thou winter wind.”
Away from here,
And I shall greet thy passing breath
Without a tear.

I do not love thy snow and sleet
Or icy flows;
When I must jump or stamp to warm
My freezing toes.

For why should I be happy or
E’en be merry,
In weather only fitted for
Cook or Peary.

My eyes are red, my lips are blue
My ears frostbitten;
Thy numbing kiss doth even extend
Thro’ my mitten.

I am cold, no matter how I warm
Or clothe me;
O Winter, greater bards have sung
I loathe thee! 

Winter Heavens – George Meredith

Sharp is the night but stars with frost alive
Leap off the rim of earth across the dome.
It is a night to make the heavens our home
More than the nest whereto apace we strive.
Lengths down our road each fir-tree seems a hive,
In swarms outrushing from the golden comb.
They waken waves of thoughts that burst to foam:
The living throb in me, the dead revive.
Yon mantle clothes us: there, past mortal breath,
Life glistens on the river of the death.
It folds us, flesh and dust; and have we knelt,
Or never knelt, or eyed as kine the springs
Of radiance, the radiance enrings:
And this is the soul’s haven to have felt.

Cold Moons Of Winter – Pete Crowther

(The moons of December, January 
and February were once known by our 
forebears respectively as Long Night or 
Cold Moon, Wolf or Storm Moon, and Snow Moon) 

Cold moons of winter 
The wolf and the storm 
Ice crystals splinter 
The long night is born 
Grey shadows lope 
Over the snow 
Yet still there is hope 
Though fires burn low. 

Suicide – James Lee Watts

Slit my throat, 
Slit my arms, 
Stab that knife in both of my palms, 

Get me out I want to go, 
The pain in my eyes never seems to show, 
Mom and Dad just don’t see, what she really meant to me, 
My love for her will always be, 

As the blood pours away from my lifeless heart, 
I think of her name and carve it deep, a work of art, 
I lie there and numb the pain, 
My love for her is driving me insane… 

Suicide – Tiara Neal

Yesterday I tried to commit suicide…
The good news is..I didn’t succeed…
You don’t know how much I tried…
And cut just to watch my arms bleeding…

That night I really wanted to die…
I even went looking for pills…
As much as I tried me just couldn’t cry…
Just something I couldn’t feel.

It’s never as hard as it looks.
You have to trust and believe me.
Cutting can get you hooked.
And left with the feeling of uncertainty.

Or at least that’s what happens to me.
I try so hard to die and don’t succeed. 

Suicide In The Trenches – Siegfried Sassoon

I knew a simple soldier boy
Who grinned at life in empty joy,
Slept soundly through the lonesome dark,
And whistled early with the lark.

In winter trenches, cowed and glum,
With crumps and lice and lack of rum,
He put a bullet through his brain.
No one spoke of him again.

You smug-faced crowds with kindling eye
Who cheer when soldier lads march by,
Sneak home and pray you’ll never know
The hell where youth and laughter go. 

Anger – Tissa Calvert

Anger is the devil inside our locked up souls, 
Anger is the spirit in which I withhold, 
Anger such demons who never is told, 
Anger is which never ever grows old.
Anger is a lie when someone’s in trouble, 
Anger is always there on the double, 
That’s what anger is! 

Anger Feeds Upon Itself – David Keig

Anger is a virus
That needs not even air
To propagate contagion
Whenever it is shared.

Anger can’t be placed in quarantine
To contain its vicious spread
For anger feeds upon itself
And burns a flaming red.

Anger is all consuming
Anger does not desist
From destroying sensibilities
In that haze of its red mist. 

Poverty – Meera Meenakshi Sundharam

It’s the 21st century, 
The world has advanced in many ways, yet poverty still cries.
Looking at the little boy with tears in eyes, 
Desperately searching for love, companion, and good clothes
We all know what it clearly indicates and shows, 
Poverty.
It haunts me, and part of me wants to make a change and, 
the other me wants to forget
but I can surely bet
It’s something one with a good heart wouldn’t do! 
If it takes some sacrifice, I’m ready
But is the rest of the world? 
I see poverty in a rich man trying to find love, 
I see poverty in a well-educated man who lacks modesty.
I see poverty in a literate man who lacks respect for the poor.
I see poverty in a selfish man who wants more
The world is still imperfect despite all the advancements, 
Because there is, 
Poverty. 

Life – Fern Conger Palleson

Life is a dream to some.
Drifting without a goal.
Life is a tragedy to others,
Without knowledge of the soul.
Life can be what you make it.
With courage undaunted and strong.
If you try to do the best you can.
Instead of just drifting along.
Life is earnest, Life is demanding,
When we live by Universal Law.
For the laws are unfailing and true,
For the flawless action we feel awe.
Universal Law was in the beginning,
And will last for ever more.
When we live by these Laws
Life will cease to be a chore.
So live a life of one who knows,
That unseen Laws govern all.
Then your life will run smoothly,
There will never be a fall. 

Life – Samuel Taylor Coleridge

As late I journey’d o’er the extensive plain
Where native Otter sports his scanty stream,
Musing in torpid woe a Sister’s pain,
The glorious prospect woke me from the dream.

At every step, it widens to my sight –
Wood, Meadow, verdant Hill, and dreary Steep,
Following in quick succession of delight, –
Till all – at once – did my eye ravish’d sweep!

May this (I cried) my course through Life portray!
New scenes of Wisdom may each step display,
And Knowledge open as my days advance!
Till what time Death shall pour the undarken’d to ray,
My eye shall dart thro’ infinite expanse,
And thought suspended lie in Rapture’s blissful trance. 

Hunting Al- Qaeda – Ted Sheridan

I don’t hunt since surviving the war
because I don’t eat bears, 
tigers or lions, and I definitely
don’t eat rats or seagulls; if one day 
the animals all owned guns, 
well then I guess I would 
possibly shoot to kill them all. 
But to hunt a man…. in times of war
to track him down like an animal
and then shoot him between the eyes
I’ve got no problem with doing it….
Except on the internet where you can
never claim a true victory
by just holding up the severed head 
of your mortal enemies….

Hunting A Girl – Akhtar Jawad

Fears of rejection,
Tears of dejection,
She is an ordinary girl,
A dark complexion!

A few women are coming,
To see her,
They want a match,
For a promising youth,
She is excited,
Her heart is beating,
She is twenty-nine!

She is attractive.
She is lean and smart,
She is educated,
A working woman,
A bank officer,
She is famous for her cooking,
She is famous for her sewing,
She is famous for her knitting,
Well behaved,
Nice manners,
Has a kind heart,
Ready to serve,
And helpful!

She had made up,
Her eyes like stars,
She has dressed her hairs,
Shining and silky,
She has selected,
The best dress she has.

At the scheduled time,
The promising youth,
With her mother,
And two younger sisters,
All having dark complexion,
And a bulky body,
And the belly of the youth,
A really fun!
Came to see her,
They saw her,
They talked to her,
They asked questions,
About her job and her salary,
And while leaving,
The old woman said,
Although her complexion is dark,
Although we don’t expect,
A handsome dowry,
Still, We select her.

After their departure,
The girl went into her room,
And started crying,
She could not say her mother,
They haven’t selected me,
They selected my income!

Depression – Amy Louise Kerswell

Oh, horrid ways of emotions.
All actions tried are of no use.
All actions acted are useless.
No matter the action it is all in vain.

I can’t go anywhere
Running is useless and of no point.
I can’t go nowhere.
Even if the option were open.

Oh depression horrible depression
Hold me back ever more
Pin me down with the force of your grace.
Depression my one true friend.

A sad dark and lonely place.
Sit on the walls.
It is so sad and vacant.
Vacant like my happy days.

Depression takes me
More and more each day.
Feeding on my sadness.

This is an everlasting scar
A scar not to heal
A scar not to mend.
It will bring me to my end

Depression – Jess Jayne

Depression is when you hate everyone around
Depression is when you don’t want to make a sound
Depression is when all you want to do is cry
Depression is when you feel like your dying inside
Depression is when your thoughts wonder all the time
Depression is when you can’t sleep even though you’re tired
Depression is when you don’t want to go on
Depression is when you can’t stop shaking outside
Depression is when you hide who you are
Depression is when you put on a mask to hide what you feel
Depression is when you feel weak all the time
Depression is when you give in to everything around
Depression is when you don’t care what happens anymore

Depression is just another day in my life

A House Of Light – Pete Crowther

From my cottage kitchen window I can see
Two fields away the blue, the shining sea
And ships that slowly glide to far-off shores
Each one a separate world with its own laws; 

They pass beyond my window and are gone.
When morning comes that miracle, the sun
Lifts slowly from the sea, a sacrament
Of grace and glory, or enlightenment.

My cottage truly is a house of light: 
By night shines Sirius, cold and bright
And in the afternoon our living room
Seems more like a sunny meadow in mid-June.

From it we see the sun prepare to slumber
Wrapped in the gleaming waters of the Humber
While to the south another lighthouse shines—
Peace be to Spurn and you who read these lines. 

House Of Silence – Philip Levine

The winter sun, golden and tired,
settles on the irregular army
of bottles. Outside the trucks
jostle toward the open road,
outside it’s Saturday afternoon,
and young women in black pass by
arm in arm. This bar
is the house of silence, and we drink
to silence without raising our voices
in the old way. We drink to doors
that don’t open, to the four walls
that dose their eyes, hands that run,
fingers that count change, toes
that add up to ten. Suspended
as we are between our business
and our rest, we feel the sudden peace
of wine and the agony of stale bread.
Columbus sailed from here 30 years ago
and never wrote home. On Saturdays
like this the phone still rings for him.

White Linen Heaven – JoJo Bean

A warm sunny day of youth
Memories of white linen sheets
Hanging on the line to dry
The air filled with fragrance oh so sweet
The edge of each sheet decorated
with grandma and mothers loving hands
Crafted embroidery of brilliant flowers
Even a few monograms
After they dried in the summer sun
Mother takes them in to iron there
A sprinkle of water and starch
Then pressed with loving care
My job was to help make the beds
Mother snaps the sheets out
I help make the corners match
Tuck the corners in so they won’t fall out
When all is done a long wait for evening
I couldn’t wait to crawl in
Between those crisp cool sheets
Of white linen heaven 

A Place Called Heaven – Lagaya Evans

Gold and Silver
Precious gems untold
Diamonds and pearls
Streets of gold

Walls of jasper
A crown of life
Awaits us all
On the other side

Heavens gates
Will you enter in
The wealth of life
Where there’s no sin

No tears will fall
From our eyes
No room for sorrow
Or sad good byes

Beauty and glory
Will always abound
Heavens sweet music
An angelic sound

Rays of glitter
Sparkle and shine
A place called Heaven
I claim as mine 

Pink Sari – Sathya Narayana

When took a dip in Ganga
that pink sari
imbibed a lot of Advaitha.

…glued to her skin
and lost identity…

became a mound of her mounds
curve of her curves
and dip of her dips.

I knew how euphoric that pinky felt
When dried up and separated from her
…retained her shape.

The Pink – Henry King

Fair one, you did on me bestow 
Comparisons too sweet to ow; 
And but I found them sent from you 
I durst not think they could be true. 
But ’tis your uncontrolled power 
Goddess-like to produce a flower, 
And by your breath, without more seed, 
Make that a Pink which was a Weed. 
Because I would be loth to miss 
So sweet a Metamorphosis, 
Upon what stalk soere I grow 
Disdain not you sometimes to blow 
And cherish by your Virgin eye 
What in your frown would droop and die: 
So shall my thankful leaf repay 
Perfumed wishes every day: 
And o’re your fortune breathe a spell 
Which may his obligation tell, 
Who though he nought but air can give 
Must ever your (Sweet) creature live. 

This Peach Is Pink With Such A Pink – Norman Rowland Gale

This peach is pink with such a pink 
As suits the peach divinely; 
The cunning colour rarely spread 
Fades to the yellow finely; 
But where to spy the truest pink 
Is in my Love’s soft cheek, I think. 

The snowdrop, child of windy March, 
Doth glory in her whiteness; 
Her golden neighbours, crocuses, 
Unenvious praise her brightness! 
But I do know where, out of sight, 
My sweetheart keeps a warmer white. 

A Pink Sky Gone Grey – Mandy Lee

The waves roll back and forth, 
crashing. Always crashing. 
It crests and then falls, 
tumbling down and uprooting the serenity of placement beneath it. 

So too do bits of hardened sand and stone get washed away, 
exposing the soft clay beneath. 
Pounded and damaged, a hurt looking life.

The marmoset turns and blinks; a slow, painstaking blink. 
And so, the rain begins. 

Pink Fingers – Khairul Ahsan

I can set out on a world tour
On foot, holding your fingers, 
Your beautiful, pink fingers. 

I can spend years in meditation
Like a sage, if you let me clench
Your pink fingers in my fist.

I can embark on a parachute jump
From the top of the Mt. Everest, 
If I have with me, your pink fingers.

I can write a poem every morning, 
Only if every night I go to sleep
Holding one or more of your fingers.

The Night – Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin

My voice that is for you the languid one, and gentle,
Disturbs the velvet of the dark night’s mantle,
By my bedside, a candle, my sad guard,
Burns, and my poems ripple and merge in flood —
And run the streams of love, run, full of you alone,
And in the dark, your eyes shine like the precious stones,
And smile to me, and hear I the voice:
My friend, my sweetest friend… I love… I’m yours… I’m yours! 

The Breath Of Night – Randall Jarrell

The moon rises. The red cubs rolling
In the ferns by the rotten oak
Stare over a marsh and a meadow
To the farm’s white wisp of smoke.
A spark burns, high in heaven.
Deer thread the blossoming rows
Of the old orchard, rabbits
Hop by the well-curb. The cock crows
From the tree by the widow’s walk;
Two stars in the trees to the west,
Are snared, and an owl’s soft cry
Runs like a breath through the forest.
Here too, though death is hushed, though joy
Obscures, like night, their wars,
The beings of this world are swept
By the Strife that moves the stars. 

Laughter – Bonnie Ruth Shaulis

Laughter is a pleasant sound, it spreads joy all around
Whether you’re young or old, laughter can be like
Magic to our souls, whenever we’re feeling sad
Laughter can sustain us so that things don’t seem
Quite so bad, if we give into laughter, it can be like
A cure for something that seems impossible to endure
So any time your spirits need a lift fill yourself
With laughter and you will find, a much happier
Person with a peaceful frame of mind

Together – Siegfried Sassoon

Splashing along the boggy woods all day,
And over brambled hedge and holding clay,
I shall not think of him:
But when the watery fields grow brown and dim,
And hounds have lost their fox, and horses tire,
I know that he’ll be with me on my way
Home through the darkness to the evening fire.
He’s jumped each stile along the glistening lanes;
His hand will be upon the mud-soaked reins;
Hearing the saddle creak,
He’ll wonder if the frost will come next week.
I shall forget him in the morning light;
And while we gallop on he will not speak:
But at the stable-door he’ll say good-night.

We May Live Together – Anne Bradstreet

If ever two were one, then surely we.
If ever man were lov’d by wife, then thee.
If ever wife was happy in a man,
Compare with me, ye women, if you can.
I prize thy love more than whole Mines of gold
Or all the riches that the East doth hold.
My love is such that Rivers cannot quench,
Nor ought but love from thee give recompetence.
Thy love is such I can no way repay.
The heavens reward thee manifold, I pray.
Then while we live, in love let’s so persever
That when we live no more, we may live ever.

The Green Bowl – Amy Lowell

This little bowl is like a mossy pool
In a Spring wood, where dogtooth violets grow
Nodding in chequered sunshine of the trees;
A quiet place, still, with the sound of birds,
Where, though unseen, is heard the endless song
And murmur of the never resting sea.
‘T was winter, Roger, when you made this cup,
But coming Spring guided your eager hand
And round the edge you fashioned young green leaves,
A proper chalice made to hold the shy
And little flowers of the woods. And here
They will forget their sad uprooting, lost
In pleasure that this circle of bright leaves
Should be their setting; once more they will dream
They hear winds wandering through lofty trees
And see the sun smiling between the leaves.

Blank Joy – Rainer Maria Rilke

She who did not come, wasn’t she determined
nonetheless to organize and decorate my heart?
If we had to exist to become the one we love,
what would the heart have to create?

Lovely joy left blank, perhaps you are
the center of all my labors and my loves.
If I’ve wept for you so much, it’s because
I preferred you among so many outlined joys.

A Joy – Deva De Silva

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

It’s a joy being loud
When the world dumbfounds
A crow rising at dawn
Training its vocal muscle

It’s a joy, letting fingers roam
Whenever they insist on
As I inscribe in earnest
My holy viewpoint

Oh joy!
I can write
When all else
Cease to exist

Weather Wise. – Fay Slimm

From murky 
overcast sky
rife with heavily 
laden cold
comes out of nowhere 
brightness.

The warm sun’s face 
pushes holes
through 
to reveal cornflower blue
circles of bloom, 
bouqueting
the day

Smiles begin 
undoing furrowed brows 
and start 
breaking frowns in two, 
increasingly.

From nowhere folk want 
to hello
and tension 
shows a release.

Murky weather moods 
have to go. 

Sleepy Weather – Smoky Hoss

My dog lay asleep by the window
lost in dreams of drizzle, 
I pat her head
and watch the rain descend.

Cold November blows
October forever away, 
and here am I, a melancholy warm
sitting with my faithful old friend.

The wind wails
a mournful tune, 
a song sung sad
when the sky comes weeping.

The fireplace aglow
holds the heart at home, 
as simply contented
I and my old dog, together, lay sleeping. 

Under The Weather – Kyle Jones

The first dark day of summer came sooner than I had hoped, 
I took one look at it and just looked back at me
‘You’re a total wreck’ it said
‘Wearing a jacket in this overheated hell hole’

‘You turned me on in winter’ I replied

I walked away from it soon after
‘Haven’t I gone blind yet I wonder’ aloud
but I don’t want to see out of my eyes anymore…
Just staring Inside my own soul 

Seeing how terrified I’ve become
Now I’ve got this sick feeling inside
Whenever it rains, and when it doesn’t

The perfect end to a perfect life
But, with nothing on the horizon
I forget about what’s above
and All I can think about is what I’m under, 
The only thing that ever makes any more sense 

Night’s Tender Kiss – Frederick Kesner

your northern smile embraces –
shining stars in the dimming sky

sparkles burst and pierce me
such brightness lightens my load
another day closes, sun sleeps
another night begins, stars keep

a hope of us together one day

across an ocean – now divides us
steps hasten screen door bangs
my chin lifts, eyes peering deep
this night is your day my sweet

slumber with fondest thoughts
our souls’ yearning tendrils enlace.

Kiss Me – Ernestine Northover

Kiss me and make it seem better,
Kiss me and quiet my heart,
I never once asked for a letter,
Stating you wanted to part.

Kiss me and declare you were wrong dear,
Kiss me and confirm it’s okay,
Say all those things that I so want to hear,
And wipe all my tears away.

Kiss me and let’s stay together,
Kiss me and pour out the wine,
Sit with me on my sofa of leather,
And say that everything will be fine.

Kiss me and tell me you love me,
Kiss me with passion to spare,
Don’t think of leaving, that is my plea
And also my ardent prayer.

Kiss me, I need you so deeply,
Kiss me, what more can I say,
But with reality looming before me,
This dream has just melted away.

Good Night – Carl Sandburg

Many ways to say good night.

Fireworks at a pier on the Fourth of July
spell it with red wheels and yellow spokes.
They fizz in the air, touch the water and quit.
Rockets make a trajectory of gold-and-blue
and then go out.

Railroad trains at night spell with a smokestack mushrooming a white pillar.

Steamboats turn a curve in the Mississippi crying a baritone that crosses lowland cottonfields to razorback hill.

It is easy to spell good night.
Many ways to spell good night.

Night Journey – Theodore Roethke

Now as the train bears west,
Its rhythm rocks the earth,
And from my Pullman berth
I stare into the night
While others take their rest.
Bridges of iron lace,
A suddenness of trees,
A lap of mountain mist
All cross my line of sight,
Then a bleak wasted place,
And a lake below my knees.
Full on my neck I feel
The straining at a curve;
My muscles move with steel,
I wake in every nerve.
I watch a beacon swing
From dark to blazing bright;
We thunder through ravines
And gullies washed with light.
Beyond the mountain pass
Mist deepens on the pane;
We rush into a rain
That rattles double glass.
Wheels shake the roadbed stone,
The pistons jerk and shove,
I stay up half the night
To see the land I love.

Football Spirit – Chase Nacker

Football is played with heart
There will always be someone better than you
It is like life, you can get knocked down but you’re the one to make the decision to get up
Everybody gets knocked down but it is your decision to get back up and fight back
Spirit is like pride and team is like family
Your family at home is there to help you just like your team
Big or small winning is the option you just need spirit
Emotions are part of the game and make you strive for gold
One day will be the last time for you to put on pads
I just witnessed seniors putting their pads on for the last time
It made me realize great things come to an end
Late in the years I know I could go to any of them because they are my second family

Football Fever – Vijay Sai

Football fever
Gripping all over
Fierce battles
Fittingly fought
Triumphant team
Winning accolades
Late night parties
Crowded countrymen
Celebrations galore
Shining south africa
Dazzling lighting
Quizzing questions
Is it day in night!
I turnaround
Weeping west africa
Crying countrymen
Impoverished infants
Hunger stricken
Poverty at peak
Food ball fever
Gripping all over
Quizzing questions
Is it night in day!

Together – Allyson Gordon

We will hold hands together
Laugh and smile together
Share our secrets together
And help each other together

We will confess our fears together
Wipe each other’s tears together
Confort each other together
And confide in each other together

We will talk about the darkness together
Write depressing poems together
Slit our wrists together
Scream in pain together

We will embrace sorrow together
Feel each other’s pain together
Plan our deaths together
And endure our suicides together

We May Live Together – Anne Bradstreet

If ever two were one, then surely we.
If ever man were lov’d by wife, then thee.
If ever wife was happy in a man,
Compare with me, ye women, if you can.
I prize thy love more than whole Mines of gold
Or all the riches that the East doth hold.
My love is such that Rivers cannot quench,
Nor ought but love from thee give recompetence.
Thy love is such I can no way repay.
The heavens reward thee manifold, I pray.
Then while we live, in love let’s so persever
That when we live no more, we may live ever.

Any Night – Philip Levine

Look, the eucalyptus, the Atlas pine,
the yellowing ash, all the trees
are gone, and I was older than
all of them. I am older than the moon,
than the stars that fill my plate,
than the unseen planets that huddle
together here at the end of a year
no one wanted. A year more than a year,
in which the sparrows learned
to fly backwards into eternity.
Their brothers and sisters saw this
and refuse to build nests. Before
the week is over they will all
have gone, and the chorus of love
that filled my yard and spilled
into my kitchen each evening
will be gone. I will have to learn
to sing in the voices of pure joy
and pure pain. I will have to forget
my name, my childhood, the years
under the cold dominion of the clock
so that this voice, torn and cracked,
can reach the low hills that shielded
the orange trees once. I will stand
on the back porch as the cold
drifts in, and sing, not for joy,
not for love, not even to be heard.
I will sing so that the darkness
can take hold and whatever
is left, the fallen fruit, the last
leaf, the puzzled squirrel, the child
far from home, lost, will believe
this could be any night. That boy,
walking alone, thinking of nothing
or reciting his favorite names
to the moon and stars, let him
find the home he left this morning,
let him hear a prayer out
of the raging mouth of the wind.
Let him repeat that prayer,
the prayer that night follows day,
that life follows death, that in time
we find our lives. Don’t let him see
all that has gone. Let him love
the darkness. Look, he’s running
and singing too. He could be happy.

The Breath Of Night – Randall Jarrell

The moon rises. The red cubs rolling
In the ferns by the rotten oak
Stare over a marsh and a meadow
To the farm’s white wisp of smoke.
A spark burns, high in heaven.
Deer thread the blossoming rows
Of the old orchard, rabbits
Hop by the well-curb. The cock crows
From the tree by the widow’s walk;
Two stars in the trees to the west,
Are snared, and an owl’s soft cry
Runs like a breath through the forest.
Here too, though death is hushed, though joy
Obscures, like night, their wars,
The beings of this world are swept
By the Strife that moves the stars.

Lonely Dreams – Uriah Hamilton

I meditate achingly
Her delicate lips
Slowly sipping
Elegant imported wine.maxresdefault

In lonely dreams, 
I weep at night
Wishing my hands
Were upon her hips.

Lovely flowers
Blossom in the afternoon; 
But while I linger
Unable to see her, 
Nothing can make me happy. 

Lonely – Pete LeMay

Lonely is the Heart that never knows true love.
Lonely is the Body never looked on from above.
Lonely is the Mind that lost it’s will to dream. feeling_lonely_large
Lonely is the Soul when no one hears it scream.

Lonely is the Heart that beats within the chest.
Lonely is the Body that soon lay down to rest.
Lonely is the Mind that has no place to go.
Lonely is the Soul that heaven does not know.

Lonely Heart, Body, Mind and Soul.

Always Football – Francis Duggan

Their worries in life would have to be small
For their main topic when they meet is always football
And what club this Season will win the premiership flag
And give their loyal fans the right for to brag
Every evening after work in their local pub on main street
For a chat and a few beers they are happy to meet
For to discuss the teams for the big weekend games
They know of the history of the clubs and the great football names
In the football season it does seem football is the big thing in their lives
Even more important to them than their children and girlfriends and wives
In the pub when their club win the club song they do sing
Football in their lives is the most important thing
And their worries in life would have to be small
When their main topic when they meet is always football. 

Football – Nassy Fesharaki

We are, both
-of same age
-old friends.

Our actions, behaviours
-are the banks of ocean
-world apart and unlike…

He is a couch-potato
-stares at screen
-days and nights
-and dreams of football.

Observer is he who
-in this way kills the time.

I, always on the run…

He, haunted by cancer
-I resist and fight it.

Hope – Jodi Right

Sigh not for there is hope
Doubt not because it is there
Just seek it
Let thy eye wander far
Just touch it
Let thy hands lay softly
Just live it
Let thy heart fill the cold
And conquer
Laugh in joy not in cruelness
Cry always but not in pain
Sing tunes for the far
And Dance for the near
Wonder not
Because hope never dies

Suicide – Jennifer Rondeau

Suicide is my thought of dying,
Crawling out of hole I made,
Suicide is my only way out of my pain I feel,
Explain why I can’t kill or hurt myself,
This is priceless for every suicidal thoughts,
The thoughts that runs through my head,
The things you have said,
The way you racquet me,
The way you make fun of me,
This is why I want to die,
Suicide is my only way out,
The way out of the pain you have caused me see.

Suicide – Tiara Neal

Yesterday I tried to commit suicide..
The good news is..I didnt succeed..
You dont know how much I tried..
And cut just to watch my arm bleed..

That night I really wanted to die..
I even went looking for pills..
As much as I tried I just couldnt cry..
Just something I couldnt feel..

Its never as hard as it looks..
You have to trust and believe me..
Cutting can get you hooked..
And left with the feeling of uncertainty..

Or at least thats what happens to me..
I try so hard to die and dont succeed..

The Ocean – Aly Churchill

Hearing the sound of the ocean roar
The sun shinning on the sea shimmering
Watching the segul’s soar
And the sand glimmering

Seeing the crabs scurrying across the sand
Watching the dolphins jump through waves
Holding sea shells in your hands,
And watching the sun set at the end of day.

Everthing is lite up by the moon light
Which makes the ocean beautiful
Gazing into the starry night
And seeing the moon so full

Now the sea creatures are at rest
The ocean is one of natures best!

Water Lily – Rainer Maria Rilke

My whole life is mine, but whoever says so
will deprive me, for it is infinite.
The ripple of water, the shade of the sky
are mine; it is still the same, my life.

No desire opens me: I am full,
I never close myself with refusal-
in the rythm of my daily soul
I do not desire-I am moved;

by being moved I exert my empire,
making the dreams of night real:
into my body at the bottom of the water
I attract the beyonds of mirrors…

Water – Bob Blackwell

The spirit of life,
spreads everywhere,
to all corners of our globe.
Rain, mist, fog, snow,
form lakes, rivers,
babbling running brooks;
the carriers of life’s soul
life’s bountiful
identity and joy.

Without it,
grasses brown,
trees rot and fall,
no leaves, flowers,
seeds, or fruit;
no shade, no scent,
no colour, food.

Animals, people, die;
no creatures great or small.
Deserts of want appear
no life or giving;
there is a thirst upon the land.
In time, all will wither,
wilt, rot and die.
Then a dirt, an ash
a sandy earth of want,
no open hand,
all life has gone.

More valuable than gold,
a treasure for us all.
use wisely, it is life.
All used up; We die!

Water – Adelaide Rhead

Water still, water deep, how many secrets do you keep?
We look upon your surface calm, and feel the peace that is a balm.
Now the gentle stream runs faster, racing swiftly swiftly —
Over boundless cataracts. Water — share your energy with me.
As a big wide river flowing slowly to the sea,
It fills me with its strength. Love and peace now cover me.
Sunshine on the water fills everything with gold.
And silver from the moonbeams. Feel the joy you now behold.
Water in its many forms soothes the jangled nerves,
Isn’t this a pleasure that everyone deserves?

Summer – James Grengs

oh, summer, your love
endured for a while.
it was in the spring,
i was in the winter,
missing love,
missing life,
missing hope.
then you were there,
holding me,
reassuring me,
telling me
you cared.
where did you go?
i hoped you were real,
not the dream you seemed
to be. i was wrong.
i touched you, and like a mist,
you were gone. summer, how many nights
have i longed for your forbidden embrace.
but you were gone, and have stayed
gone.
come back, summer. your golden hair,
stirred in the breeze;
your laugh,
the sound of birds in flight;
your joy,
dead and cold, now.
summer, your life is gone.
return to me, summer, my love,
lest i too perish
in cold.

Food – Jing Han

Food, food I love you so,
People say go on a diet, but what do they know.
Food, food you make me grow,
You are the one on that makes me glow.

Burgers and fries,
They are the one that stifles my hunger cries.
Popcorn chicken and buffalo wings,
Whenever I see you, with joy my heart sings.

Smoothies and milkshake,
They all go great with a nice chocolate cake.
Ice cream and whip cream,
Why couldn’t I get you out of my dream?

Food, food I love you so.
I will always love you wherever I go.
Food, food you may not know,
But in my life, you play the leading role.

Food – David Taylor

I’ve seen heart ache,
and I’ve seen pain.
I’ve seen love lost
never to be regained.
I write some poems,
to let you know.
This life lies between,
the rain above and fire below.
And through all that
the music of the poem flows.
Seasons come
and seasons go.
And dropp by drop
our understanding grows.
And when the crop of life
is ready, full, complete.
And the growing season
has reached a close.
The crop is harvested and
the finest parts put on display,
for your consumption day by day.
And when the tree is old
and has no more power
to give its fruits,
Its trunk and branches fall
returning to the ground
from whence they came.
To feed you all in another way,
through another crop, another day.
Its strange to find that I
am really growing day by day,
to feed you all until I meet,
the earth that’s always been
beneath my feet.

Food In Travel – Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

IF to her eyes’ bright lustre I were blind,
No longer would they serve my life to gild.
The will of destiny must be fulfilid,–
This knowing, I withdrew with sadden’d mind.
No further happiness I now could find:
The former longings of my heart were still’d;
I sought her looks alone, whereon to build
My joy in life,–all else was left behind.
Wine’s genial glow, the festal banquet gay,
Ease, sleep, and friends, all wonted pleasures glad
I spurn’d, till little there remain’d to prove.
Now calmly through the world I wend my way:
That which I crave may everywhere be had,
With me I bring the one thing needful–love.

The Food Of Love – Ernestine Northover

What would you like for supper,
Some steak, with chips and peas,
Maybe, a nice brewed cuppa,
Or me, with lips that please.

You could have something spicy,
Like a curry or sweet and sour,
But these can be a bit spicy
And not good, at this late hour.

Perhaps a glass of beer, or shandy,
Or a brandy to fill the gap,
But, of course, that might make you randy,
Hey! Have that as your nightcap!

There’s me, I’m sweet and slender,
And tender like the steak,
And if you put me in a blender,
A fantastic meal, I’d make.

There’s food enough for your pleasure,
So don’t say you aren’t well fed,
When you start to realise I’m a treasure,
You could have ‘hot crumpet’ in your bed!

Plenty Of Anger – Aldo Kraas

There is plenty of anger inside of me
It has to stop
Why is there so much anger inside of me?
My anger is part of my frustration
I have to control it now
My anger causes me plenty of trouble
There is plenty of anger inside of me
And what is anger do I know?
Anger is a strong feeling of displasure
It is a grief that I have inside of me
How can I control it?
What triggers my anger?
Can I recognize it?

Anger And Patience – Patti Masterman

I am bottled anger.
Violence burns within me;
A potent drug, rage.
With it, I could topple
The mountain’s height:
How much more could I destroy you,
Pitiful worm.
I am danger incarnate:
Death personified.
Be thankful I am sane,
And controlled;
-Bottled anger-
If I were not,
You would cease to be.

Anger – Mamta Agarwal

Your anger
Bursts like a thunderstorm,
And torrential rain,
And flashes like lightening.

And when its spent
And an uncanny calm descends.
I feel like an uprooted tree.

Sharp words
Can hurt,
Deeper than a wound
By a sword.

It takes time
Before a scab forms,
And you move on.

The Rain And The Wind – William Ernest Henley

The rain and the wind, the wind and the rain —
They are with us like a disease:
They worry the heart, they work the brain,
As they shoulder and clutch at the shrieking pane,
And savage the helpless trees.

What does it profit a man to know
These tattered and tumbling skies
A million stately stars will show,
And the ruining grace of the after-glow
And the rush of the wild sunrise?

Ever the rain — the rain and the wind!
Come, hunch with me over the fire,
Dream of the dreams that leered and grinned,
Ere the blood of the Year got chilled and thinned,
And the death came on desire!

April Rain – Mathilde Blind

The April rain, the April rain,
Comes slanting down in fitful showers,
Then from the furrow shoots the grain,
And banks are fledged with nestling flowers;
And in grey shaw and woodland bowers
The cuckoo through the April rain
Calls once again.

The April sun, the April sun,
Glints through the rain in fitful splendour,
And in grey shaw and woodland dun
The little leaves spring forth and tender
Their infant hands, yet weak and slender,
For warmth towards the April sun,
One after one.

And between shower and shine hath birth
The rainbow’s evanescent glory;
Heaven’s light that breaks on mists of earth!
Frail symbol of our human story,
It flowers through showers where, looming hoary,
The rain-clouds flash with April mirth,
Like Life on earth.

Rain – Jack Gilbert

Suddenly this defeat.
This rain.
The blues gone gray
And the browns gone gray
And yellow
A terrible amber.
In the cold streets
Your warm body.
In whatever room
Your warm body.
Among all the people
Your absence
The people who are always
Not you.

I have been easy with trees
Too long.
Too familiar with mountains.
Joy has been a habit.

Now
Suddenly
This rain.

Spring – Ernst Toller

In spring I go to war
To sing or to die.
What do I care for my own troubles?
Today I shatter them, laughing in pieces.

Oh, Brothers, know that young spring came
In a whirlwind.
Quickly throw off tired grief
And follow her in a host.

I have never felt so strongly
How much I love you, Oh, Germany,
As the magic of spring surrounds you
Amidst the bustle of war.

The Rose – William Browne

A ROSE, as fair as ever saw the North,
Grew in a little garden all alone;
A sweeter flower did Nature ne’er put forth,
Nor fairer garden yet was never known:
The maidens danced about it morn and noon,
And learned bards of it their ditties made;
The nimble fairies by the pale-faced moon
Water’d the root and kiss’d her pretty shade.
But well-a-day! – the gardener careless grew;
The maids and fairies both were kept away,
And in a drought the caterpillars threw
Themselves upon the bud and every spray.
God shield the stock! If heaven send no supplies,
The fairest blossom of the garden dies.

A Rose In Disguise – Sarah Mellberg

A rose is a rose every day, every night
You too are the same, except different in my sight

You are like a rose, such a beautiful creation
But a rose in disguise, meant to blume for every nation

So show your beauty, for I know what you are
You are a rose in disguise, and very, very wise

A rose is a rose is a rose…..

A Black Rose – The Black Rose

A Black Rose,
Glistening in the rain,
A sign, a symbol,
An insignia of loss,
It’s the Flower of Darkness,
Lying in wait on this cold winter night,

It represents the beauty of despair,
The grace of defeat,
The feelings we all find hard to bear,
The millions of people that have all loved and lost,
All behind this flower that holds us aloft,

Within its petals we drown our grief,
With its stem we clutch to what’s left of life,
Within its thorns we spite those who have set us so
And within this dark flower we find our peace,
The power to let go and leave the loved lie,

So with this flower we sign our hearts,
We accept our everlasting love,
And move on,

A Black Rose,
Glistening in the rain,
Ill forever love you,
Ill never lose hope,
But until you come back,
Here’s a Black Rose,
For my love…

Water – Adelaide Rhead

Water still, water deep, how many secrets do you keep?
We look upon your surface calm, and feel the peace that is a balm.
Now the gentle stream runs faster, racing swiftly swiftly —
Over boundless cataracts. Water — share your energy with me.
As a big wide river flowing slowly to the sea,
It fills me with its strength. Love and peace now cover me.
Sunshine on the water fills everything with gold.
And silver from the moonbeams. Feel the joy you now behold.
Water in its many forms soothes the jangled nerves,
Isn’t this a pleasure that everyone deserves?

Water Picture – May Swenson

In the pond in the park
all things are doubled:
Long buildings hang and
wriggle gently. Chimneys
are bent legs bouncing
on clouds below. A flag
wags like a fishhook
down there in the sky.

The arched stone bridge
is an eye, with underlid
in the water. In its lens
dip crinkled heads with hats
that don’t fall off. Dogs go by,
barking on their backs.
A baby, taken to feed the
ducks, dangles upside-down,
a pink balloon for a buoy.

Treetops deploy a haze of
cherry bloom for roots,
where birds coast belly-up
in the glass bowl of a hill;
from its bottom a bunch
of peanut-munching children
is suspended by their
sneakers, waveringly.

A swan, with twin necks
forming the figure 3,
steers between two dimpled
towers doubled. Fondly
hissing, she kisses herself,
and all the scene is troubled:
water-windows splinter,
tree-limbs tangle, the bridge
folds like a fan.

Going For Water – Robert Frost

The well was dry beside the door,
And so we went with pail and can
Across the fields behind the house
To seek the brook if still it ran;
Not loth to have excuse to go,
Because the autumn eve was fair
(Though chill), because the fields were ours,
And by the brook our woods were there.

We ran as if to meet the moon
That slowly dawned behind the trees,
The barren boughs without the leaves,
Without the birds, without the breeze.

But once within the wood, we paused
Like gnomes that hid us from the moon,
Ready to run to hiding new
With laughter when she found us soon.

Each laid on other a staying hand
To listen ere we dared to look,
And in the hush we joined to make
We heard, we knew we heard the brook.

A note as from a single place,
A slender tinkling fall that made
Now drops that floated on the pool
Like pearls, and now a silver blade.

Fire & Love – Patricia Gale

Golden orangish flames
Hinted with a hue of blue
Circling round hardened wood
Consuming the outer
Streaking through the grain
Down to its very core

Strange.. the comparison to love
How it begins with a spark
Then a glowing consuming feeling
Circling round the outer till it reaches the very core of the soul
As it streaks through the body then reaching the heart

Fire and love different as night is to day
But none the less….
Both consume and may warm a being
Or leave one with nothing but ashes

Sea Love – Charlotte Mary Mew

Tide be runnin’ the great world over:
‘Twas only last June month I mind that we
Was thinkin’ the toss and the call in the breast of the lover
So everlastin’ as the sea.

Heer’s the same little fishes that sputter an swim,
Wi’ the moon’s old glim on the grey, wet sand;
An’ him no more to me mor me to him
Than the wind goin’ over my hand.

At Sea – Aleister Crowley

As night hath stars, more rare than ships
In ocean, faint from pole to pole,
So all the wonder of her lips
Hints her innavigable soul.

Such lights she gives as guide my barque;
But I am swallowed in the swell
Of her heart’s ocean, sagely dark,
That holds my heaven and holds my hell.

In her I live, a mote minute
Dancing a moment in the sun:
In her I die, a sterile shoot
Of nightshade in oblivion.

In her my elf dissolves, a grain
Of salt cast careless in the sea;
My passion purifies my pain
To peace past personality.

Love of my life, God grant the years
Confirm the chrism – rose to rood!
Anointing loves, asperging tears
In sanctifying solitude!

Man is so infinitely small
In all these stars, determinate.
Maker and moulder of them all,
Man is so infinitely great!

Butterflies And Football – Anita Atina

On a sunny day, that warmed the winter breeze
Running with laughter and children,
With butterflies flitting o’er bobbing heads,
Coyly swaying grass,
Smiling up to clear blue skies!

Little sparrows twitter startled,
From their gentle snooze in the shadows.
Happy shouts play pass, with stomping feet
Arms waving, jumping
This way, this way! And goallll! ! !

Football Is Round – Louisa Dai

A shooting ball is swooshing;
People in globe are watching.
On a sudden
Hails of cheers, vales of tears.
At losers’ silence, winners’re proud
Football is round.

In the humming of vuvuzel
Behind yellow and red card
All pass in the eyes of eagle
Nothing is impossible.
Football is round
For entertaining goal.

Football – Fred Babbin

With Apologies to Oliver Twist and everybody else.

Football, glorious football.
Don’t care what it looks like -.
Burned! Underdone! Crude!
Don’t care what those crooks like.
Just thinking of growing fat.-
Our senses go reeling.
One moment of knowing that
Full-up feeling from sitting on
the couch!
Football, glorious football!
What wouldn’t we give for
That extra bit more,
that’s all that we should live for.
Why should we be fated
to do nothing but brood
on football,
magical football,
wonderful football,
marvelous football,
fabulous football,
beautiful football,
glorious football!

Football – Louis Jenkins

I take the snap from the center, fake to the right, fade back…
I’ve got protection. I’ve got a receiver open downfield…
What the hell is this? This isn’t a football, it’s a shoe, a man’s
brown leather oxford. A cousin to a football maybe, the same
skin, but not the same, a thing made for the earth, not the air.
I realize that this is a world where anything is possible and I
understand, also, that one often has to make do with what one
has. I have eaten pancakes, for instance, with that clear corn
syrup on them because there was no maple syrup and they
weren’t very good. Well, anyway, this is different. (My man
downfield is waving his arms.) One has certain responsibilities,
one has to make choices. This isn’t right and I’m not going
to throw it.

Justice – Archie Greenidge

Justice, justice, justice!
Where art thou? ye Stewarth?
Justice is the very warmth of an inn,
When interred from the bitter slippery, frosty storm.
Justice is the norm.
It’s illusive to the door, like a very fastened door,
Cannot be entrusted to flurry mind.
Justice must be mandated.
With justice the waves are calm,
There is never a harm.
No one needs justice until
They themselves are imprisoned.
Justice is not heresy,
It’s the healing of the soul.

A Strange Justice – Afzal Shauq

The one
who is supposed to
give me justice has
amazingly declared her heart
as a court,
she herself as a judge to hear,
her brain as a lawyer to plea,
herself witnesses to prove,
even then
her decisions are also based on
the rules and regulations
mentioned in the black book of law,
she constructed herself
as per her own willingness too.

Cant Get No Justice – Eric Cockrell

black man
in them poverty chains
cant get no justice
in them sterile white courts.

blue collar man
in them grimy working chains
cant get no justice
in them insulated courts.

freedom man
in them speak out chains
cant get no justice
in them walled off courts.

poor woman, ha!
in them second class chains
cant get no justice
in them man-god courts.

you and me
in them angry tired chains
cant get no justice
in them fictional courts!

Bush Justice – Charles Harpur

A Dealer, bewitched by gain-promising dreams
Settled down near my Station, to trade with my Teams,
And to sell to, my men too! from whom, through the nose,
Until then, I had screw’d just what prices I chose;
And for this, to be sure, I so hated the man,
That I swore ne’er to rest till I’d settled some plan
Whereby in the Lockup to cleverly cram him!
And so to my Super the matter I put,
Who thereupon ‘found’ a sheep’s head near his hut,
And the ‘how came it there?’ was sufficient to damn him,
The Beak before who I then lugg’d him, as you
May suppose, being neck-deep in Squattery too.

‘Twas a beautiful Hearing, as noted at large
By the Clerk (who was bonuss’d)-sheep-stealing the charge;
‘Twould make your hearts laugh in the Records to see
How we bullied him out of his wits! -I say we,
Because while on this side against him 1 banged,
On the other the Beak said he ought to be hanged,
For a gallows-grained, scandalous son of transgression!
And committing him then-the case being so plain,
We sent him three hundred miles ‘down on the chain’
To his Trial-and eke to his ‘acquittal’, at Session!
For what care we Squatters for Law on a push?
And for Justice! what has she to do with the Bush?

Morning Joy – Claude McKay

At night the wide and level stretch of wold,
Which at high noon had basked in quiet gold,
Far as the eye could see was ghostly white;
Dark was the night save for the snow’s weird light.

I drew the shades far down, crept into bed;
Hearing the cold wind moaning overhead
Through the sad pines, my soul, catching its pain,
Went sorrowing with it across the plain.

At dawn, behold! the pall of night was gone,
Save where a few shrubs melancholy, lone,
Detained a fragile shadow. Golden-lipped
The laughing grasses heaven’s sweet wine sipped.

The sun rose smiling o’er the river’s breast,
And my soul, by his happy spirit blest,
Soared like a bird to greet him in the sky,
And drew out of his heart Eternity.

Joy – Carl Sandburg

Let a joy keep you.
Reach out your hands
And take it when it runs by,
As the Apache dancer
Clutches his woman.
I have seen them
Live long and laugh loud,
Sent on singing, singing,
Smashed to the heart
Under the ribs
With a terrible love.
Joy always,
Joy everywhere–
Let joy kill you!
Keep away from the little deaths.

Butterfly Wings – Valerie Anderson

Butterfly wings.
Dancing, shimmering lights.
They are the northern lights
of the south during the day.

Beautiful lime green.
Flash and flutter.
Dancing upon the walls.
Making such a clutter.
Those butterfly wings.

A light periwinkle blue.
As blue as the ocean.
Mysterious as the moon.
Reminds me of that sky, full of clouds.
Those butterfly wings.

A deep blood red.
So vibrant and full of life.
A deep, swirling crimson.
So loyal and true.
Those butterfly wings.

A sparkling sunny yellow.
So bright and cheerful.
Almost like a lighter gold.
So friendly and caring.
Those butterfly wings.

Those wings hold character.
Opposites they hold as well as mystery.
So dark but light and sure.
Are those butterfly wings.

Butterfly Laughter – Katherine Mansfield

In the middle of our porridge plates
There was a blue butterfly painted
And each morning we tried who should reach the
butterfly first.
Then the Grandmother said: “Do not eat the poor
butterfly.”
That made us laugh.
Always she said it and always it started us laughing.
It seemed such a sweet little joke.
I was certain that one fine morning
The butterfly would fly out of our plates,
Laughing the teeniest laugh in the world,
And perch on the Grandmother’s lap.

Lost – Farzana Hossain

I lost everything when i lost you.
I lost my life when i lost you.
I lost my senses when I find my self in a deep misery.
I lost my pride when I lost my potency of loving you.
I never stop my self to love you.
I apart my self from your loving thought.
I lost everything when I lost you.
I am lost in my own world.
I am looking at you in my blur eyes.
I know you will come to me.
And I will get everything I wanted.
I will not lose anything because you are not lost for me.
Your sweet and tender smile gives me the pleasure of this world.
It’s a gift from heaven when I will find you in my arm
But I just lost my way to get back to you.
I lost everything when I lost you.

A Lost Love – Henry Francis Lyte

I meet thy pensive, moonlight face;
Thy thrilling voice I hear;
And former hours and scenes retrace,
Too fleeting, and too dear!

Then sighs and tears flow fast and free,
Though none is nigh to share;
And life has nought beside for me
So sweet as this despair.

There are crush’d hearts that will not break;
And mine, methinks, is one;
Or thus I should not weep and wake,
And thou to slumber gone.

I little thought it thus could be
In days more sad and fair
That earth could have a place for me,
And thou no longer there.

Yet death cannot our hearts divide,
Or make thee less my own:
Twere sweeter sleeping at thy side
Than watching here alone.

Yet never, never can we part,
While Memory holds her reign:
Thine, thine is still this wither’d heart,
Till we shall meet again.

The Lost Leader – Robert Browning

I.

Just for a handful of silver he left us,
Just for a riband to stick in his coat—
Found the one gift of which fortune bereft us,
Lost all the others she lets us devote;
They, with the gold to give, doled him out silver,
So much was theirs who so little allowed:
How all our copper had gone for his service!
Rags—were they purple, his heart had been proud!
We that had loved him so, followed him, honoured him,
Lived in his mild and magnificent eye,
Learned his great language, caught his clear accents,
Made him our pattern to live and to die!
Shakespeare was of us, Milton was for us,
Burns, Shelley, were with us,—they watch from their graves!
He alone breaks from the van and the free-men,
—He alone sinks to the rear and the slaves!

II.

We shall march prospering,—not thro’ his presence;
Songs may inspirit us,—not from his lyre;
Deeds will be done,—while he boasts his quiescence,
Still bidding crouch whom the rest bade aspire:
Blot out his name, then, record one lost soul more,
One task more declined, one more foot-path untrod,
One more devils’-triumph and sorrow for angels,
One wrong more to man, one more insult to God!
Life’s night begins: let him never come back to us!
There would be doubt, hesitation and pain,
Forced praise on our part—the glimmer of twilight,
Never glad confident morning again!
Best fight on well, for we taught him—strike gallantly,
Menace our heart ere we master his own;
Then let him receive the new knowledge and wait us,
Pardoned in heaven, the first by the throne!

Hope Is Good Thing To Hope. – Kristina Riggs

I hope my family get a long like they use too
I hope God finds away to bring my brother
back from drugs
I hope my father stays in my life and don’t
take off life he did before when I was a baby
I hope before I am 30 years old I be marriage
and have family like my friends do
I hope my dreams I want out of life comes true
I hope me wanting to hope is not dumb
I hope is right thing to do in life
I hope I get in to college
I hope my mom finds good guy beside
jerks
I hope who I am with doesn’t hurt me
or break my heart like guys did with
my mom
I hope my brother leaves this girl that
keep him away from his family
I hope Amber will always be my best friend
I hope Rusty doesn’t every leave me
I hope God helps find away for us
to be together me and Rusty
I hope my family is happy
I hope my friends are happy and thankful
for what they have in life
I hope when Jennifer gets marriager it doesn’t
be life her last one ended bad
I hope everyone learns how good is to hope
and pray for things you need.
I hope everyone thankful and glad to be here
in this world.

With Faith And Hope – Ernestine Northover

The tears fall, but no one’s there to heed them,
The heart it mourns, but no one sees the hurt.
An emptiness has seeped into the brainstem,
One’s feeling dazed, and no longer alert.

Such desolation haunts one’s whole persona,
What can one do, and just where can one go,
You feel as if you’ve now become a loner,
How droplets, when they’re prompted, freely flow.

To cry can be a painful kind of action,
One weeps for someone one has loved so well,
Yet grieving gives release, if just a fraction,
Which heals the ache and lets sadness dispel.

Only time will ease such utter sorrow,
That comes from losing someone Oh, so dear,
But with the dawning of each new tomorrow,
With faith and hope you’ll find a panacea.

Song Of Hope – Thomas Hardy

O sweet To-morrow! –
After to-day
There will away
This sense of sorrow.
Then let us borrow
Hope, for a gleaming
Soon will be streaming,
Dimmed by no gray –
No gray!

While the winds wing us
Sighs from The Gone,
Nearer to dawn
Minute-beats bring us;
When there will sing us
Larks of a glory
Waiting our story
Further anon –
Anon!

Doff the black token,
Don the red shoon,
Right and retune
Viol-strings broken;
Null the words spoken
In speeches of rueing,
The night cloud is hueing,
To-morrow shines soon –
Shines soon!

All Hope – Bill Smith

All hope lies in tomorrow
Betrayed by yesterday
For every new horizon
There is a price to pay
The piper plays his tune
Holds out a hand for gilt
The memory cries a river
The wrong side of spilt milk

All hope lies in tomorrow
Forgetting yesterday
All hope is stored in thoughts
Arranged to form a play
There’s laughter and there’s intrigue
There’s sadness and there’s pain
Yet by the final act
Laughter rules again

All hope lies in tomorrow
Aphrodite by my side
To walk a brave new world
Athena as my guide
All hope lies in tomorrow
Under Helios’s light
To trust tomorrow to Themis
Her justice and her right

War – Charles Wagner

Where has the dreamer gone?
Off to war.
And his dreams?
He had to lay them aside.
Will he ever dream his dreams again?
Only after the war.
Will he win the war?
Only if he returns with new dreams.
When will the war end?
Never.
Then how can he ever return home?
Only when he stops fighting.
Who will survive the war?
No one at all.
What kind of war is it?
No one knows.
Who is the enemy?
He is

War Torn – James Mills

Some remnant living in muscle memory
is pressed, dressed and polished each time
he marches, slowly now and with tired bones,
to the Legion for his Friday bingo.
His numbers, in all the years, haven’t shown
as ex-corporal caller turns the wheel
and the same bally jokes revolve and drop,
snipered, on the half-deaf, half-dead, half-full
hall of pensioners with fat pens
and luckless grins whose week’s entertainment
spins and tumbles. Someone checks. They groan.
He removes his specs sauntering barwards
for his first pint, shouts an old joke,
‘Hey, you barsteward’
takes the barkeeps wince for a smile.
He re-enlists each Friday, soldiering on,
wishing he might ‘fall-out’.
Surrender.

War Song – John Davidson

In anguish we uplift
A new unhallowed song:
The race is to the swift;
The battle to the strong.

Of old it was ordained
That we, in packs like curs,
Some thirty million trained
And licensed murderers,

In crime should live and act,
If cunning folk say sooth
Who flay the naked fact
And carve the heart of truth.

The rulers cry aloud,
“We cannot cancel war,
The end and bloody shroud
Of wrongs the worst abhor,
And order’s swaddling band:
Know that relentless strife
Remains by sea and land
The holiest law of life.
From fear in every guise,
From sloth, from lust of pelf,
By war’s great sacrifice
The world redeems itself.
War is the source, the theme
Of art; the goal, the bent
And brilliant academe
Of noble sentiment;
The augury, the dawn
Of golden times of grace;
The true catholicon,
And blood-bath of the race.”

We thirty million trained
And licensed murderers,
Like zanies rigged, and chained
By drill and scourge and curse
In shackles of despair
We know not how to break —
What do we victims care
For art, what interest take
In things unseen, unheard?
Some diplomat no doubt
Will launch a heedless word,
And lurking war leap out!

We spell-bound armies then,
Huge brutes in dumb distress,
Machines compact of men
Who once had consciences,
Must trample harvests down —
Vineyard, and corn and oil;
Dismantle town by town,
Hamlet and homestead spoil
On each appointed path,
Till lust of havoc light
A blood-red blaze of wrath
In every frenzied sight.

In many a mountain pass,
Or meadow green and fresh,
Mass shall encounter mass
Of shuddering human flesh;
Opposing ordnance roar
Across the swaths of slain,
And blood in torrents pour
In vain — always in vain,
For war breeds war again!

The shameful dream is past,
The subtle maze untrod:
We recognise at last
That war is not of God.

Spring And Winter – William Shakespeare

WHEN daisies pied and violets blue,
And lady-smocks all silver-white,
And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue
Do paint the meadows with delight,
The cuckoo then, on every tree,
Mocks married men; for thus sings he,
Cuckoo!
Cuckoo, cuckoo! – O word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear!

When shepherds pipe on oaten straws,
And merry larks are ploughmen’s clocks,
When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws,
And maidens bleach their summer smocks
The cuckoo then, on every tree,
Mocks married men; for thus sings he,
Cuckoo!
Cuckoo, cuckoo! – O word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear!

A Winter Day – Lucy Maud Montgomery

I

The air is silent save where stirs
A bugling breeze among the firs;
The virgin world in white array
Waits for the bridegroom kiss of day;
All heaven blooms rarely in the east
Where skies are silvery and fleeced,
And o’er the orient hills made glad
The morning comes in wonder clad;
Oh, ’tis a time most fit to see
How beautiful the dawn can be!

II

Wide, sparkling fields snow-vestured lie
Beneath a blue, unshadowed sky;
A glistening splendor crowns the woods
And bosky, whistling solitudes;
In hemlock glen and reedy mere
The tang of frost is sharp and clear;
Life hath a jollity and zest,
A poignancy made manifest;
Laughter and courage have their way
At noontide of a winter’s day.

III

Faint music rings in wold and dell,
The tinkling of a distant bell,
Where homestead lights with friendly glow
Glimmer across the drifted snow;
Beyond a valley dim and far
Lit by an occidental star,
Tall pines the marge of day beset
Like many a slender minaret,
Whence priest-like winds on crystal air
Summon the reverent world to prayer.

Winter Night – Boris Pasternak

It snowed and snowed ,the whole world over,
Snow swept the world from end to end.
A candle burned on the table;
A candle burned.

As during summer midges swarm
To beat their wings against a flame
Out in the yard the snowflakes swarmed
To beat against the window pane

The blizzard sculptured on the glass
Designs of arrows and of whorls.
A candle burned on the table;
A candle burned.

Distorted shadows fell
Upon the lighted ceiling:
Shadows of crossed arms,of crossed legs-
Of crossed destiny.

Two tiny shoes fell to the floor
And thudded.
A candle on a nightstand shed wax tears
Upon a dress.

All things vanished within
The snowy murk-white,hoary.
A candle burned on the table;
A candle burned.

A corner draft fluttered the flame
And the white fever of temptation
Upswept its angel wings that cast
A cruciform shadow

It snowed hard throughout the month
Of February, and almost constantly
A candle burned on the table;
A candle burned.

Butterflies And Football – Anita Atina

On a sunny day, that warmed the winter breeze
Running with laughter and children,
With butterflies flitting o’er bobbing heads,
Coyly swaying grass,
Smiling up to clear blue skies!

Little sparrows twitter startled,
From their gentle snooze in the shadows.
Happy shouts play pass, with stomping feet
Arms waving, jumping
This way, this way! And goallll! ! !