#philip - Hello Poetry

Standing tall among men was he, Very humbly he called himself a 'refugee'. He was the Queen's Consort, oft full of wit; Yet in humour, he pretended to be a twit. Some thought he stood among the gods, Busy with so much he had no time for the Land of Nod. In life steps behind the Queen he would always be; At death carried high before the Queen and for all to see. All the many good works he had done, The world only knew at the set of his sun.

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Apr 29, 2021

Apr 29, 2021 at 6:02 AM UTC

htr-stevens

The Queen's Consort

Standing tall among men was he, Very humbly he called himself a 'refugee'. He was the Queen's Consort, oft full of wit; Yet in humour, he pretended to be a twit. Some thought he stood among the gods, Busy with so much he had no time for the Land of Nod. In life steps behind the Queen he would always be; At death carried high before the Queen and for all to see. All the many good works he had done, The world only knew at the set of his sun.

10

A BLACK DEVILS TONGUE ROLLS OUT BEFORE ME HISSING, LICKING, FLAMING & SPITTING I'M ON THE RUN FROM THE DEMON INSIDE ME GRINDING WINDING CHURNING AND BURNING A SCREAMING BULLET TEARS FROM HELLS OWN KEEP THUNDER QUAKES OF LAUGHTER FROM THE BELLY OF THE BEAST A BLACK DEVILS TONGUE ROLLS OUT BEFORE ME HISSING, LICKING, FLAMING & SPITTING I'M ON THE RUN FROM THE EVIL INSIDE ME GRINDING WINDING CHURNING AND BURNING A STREAK OF LIGHTNING BOLT BLISTERING THE EARTH TREMBLING AND SHAKING LOOSE OF HELLS OWN HEARTH MUSCULAR SKELETAL CONTORTING BODY BRACED IS FORCING SPITTIN SPARKS GRINDIN' WHEELS KICKIN' FAST AT THE DEVIL'S HEELS FLIRTING WITH PSYCHOSIS THIS MADNESS TAKES 'A' HOLD I'M DRIPPIN' SWEAT GRIPPIN A SPINNIN' WHEEL GRINDIN' SPARKS AT THE DEVIL'S HEELS I'M DRIPPIN' WET MINDS BLEEDING THIS MADNESS TAKES A HOLD I'M GRIPPIN' HARD ON A SPINNIN' WHEEL KNUCKLES WHITE ICY COLD I'M GRIPPIN' WET MINDS BLEEDING THIS MADNESS TAKES MY SOUL I'M DRIPPIN' SWEAT GRIPPIN' A SPINNIN' WHEEL SPITTIN' SPARKS ON THE DEVIL'S HEELS I'M DRIPPIN' SWEAT MINDS BLEEDING THIS MADNESS TAKES A HOLD I'M DRIPPIN' SWEAT GRIPPIN' A SPINNIN' WHEEL WAITIN' FOR THE DEATH KNELL PEEL A BLACK DEVILS TONGUE ROLLS OUT BEFORE ME HISSING, LICKING, FLAMING & SPITTING I'M ON THE RUN FROM THE DEMON INSIDE ME GRINDING WINDING CHURNING AND BURNING A SCREAMING BULLET TEARS FROM HELLS OWN KEEP THUNDER QUAKES OF LAUGHTER FROM THE BELLY OF THE BEAST A BLACK DEVILS TONGUE ROLLS OUT BEFORE ME HISSING, LICKING, FLAMING & SPITTING I'M ON THE RUN FROM THE EVIL INSIDE ME GRINDING WINDING CHURNING AND BURNING THIS RUPTURED CHASM ERUPTS SPLINTERING THE HEAP WILDFIRE SPITTING FROM INFERNAL DEEP MUSCULAR SKELETAL CONTORTING BODY BRACED IS FORCING SPITTIN SPARKS GRINDIN' WHEELS KICKIN' FAST AT THE DEVIL'S HEELS FLIRTING WITH PSYCHOSIS THIS MADNESS TAKES 'A' HOLD I'M DRIPPIN' SWEAT GRIPPIN A SPINNIN' WHEEL GRINDIN' SPARKS AT THE DEVIL'S HEELS I'M DRIPPIN' WET MINDS BLEEDING THIS MADNESS TAKES A HOLD I'M GRIPPIN' HARD ON A SPINNIN' WHEEL KNUCKLES WHITE ICY COLD I'M GRIPPIN' WET MINDS BLEEDING THIS MADNESS TAKES MY SOUL I'M DRIPPIN' SWEAT GRIPPIN' A SPINNIN' WHEEL SPITTIN' SPARKS ON THE DEVIL'S HEELS I'M DRIPPIN' SWEAT MINDS BLEEDING THIS MADNESS TAKES A HOLD I'M DRIPPIN' SWEAT GRIPPIN' A SPINNIN' WHEEL WAITIN' FOR THE DEATH KNELL PEEL THESE DARK WINGS SPREAD OVER MY HORIZON REIGN IN EVIL REIGN IN FREEDOM REIGN IN HELL THESE RIVERS RUN WITH BLOOD FLOWING TO THE FLOOD THESE RIVERS RUN WITH BLOOD FLOWING TO THE FLOOD FROM THE GNASHING TEETH OF THE JAWS OF HELL RASPING GASPING SEETHING AND BREATHING MOVING FASTER THAN THE TOLL OF THAT FATEFUL BELL WREAK CRAKE SHREIKS AND SHAKES THE HEATH WINDIN' DOWN THAT STEEP SLIDE SLIPPERY SLOPE LANDSCAPE RACING THROUGH MY MIND WINDIN' DOWN THAT SLIPPERY SLOPE LANDSLIDE RACING THROUGH MY MIND WINDIN' DOWN THAT STEEP SIDE SLIPPERY SLOPE BLACK TRACKS RACING THROUGH MY MIND

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Apr 24, 2021

Apr 24, 2021 at 8:19 AM UTC

Beast

Black Serpent

A BLACK DEVILS TONGUE ROLLS OUT BEFORE ME HISSING, LICKING, FLAMING & SPITTING I'M ON THE RUN FROM THE DEMON INSIDE ME GRINDING WINDING CHURNING AND BURNING A SCREAMING BULLET TEARS FROM HELLS OWN KEEP THUNDER QUAKES OF LAUGHTER FROM THE BELLY OF THE BEAST A BLACK DEVILS TONGUE ROLLS OUT BEFORE ME HISSING, LICKING, FLAMING & SPITTING I'M ON THE RUN FROM THE EVIL INSIDE ME GRINDING WINDING CHURNING AND BURNING A STREAK OF LIGHTNING BOLT BLISTERING THE EARTH TREMBLING AND SHAKING LOOSE OF HELLS OWN HEARTH MUSCULAR SKELETAL CONTORTING BODY BRACED IS FORCING SPITTIN SPARKS GRINDIN' WHEELS KICKIN' FAST AT THE DEVIL'S HEELS FLIRTING WITH PSYCHOSIS THIS MADNESS TAKES 'A' HOLD I'M DRIPPIN' SWEAT GRIPPIN A SPINNIN' WHEEL GRINDIN' SPARKS AT THE DEVIL'S HEELS I'M DRIPPIN' WET MINDS BLEEDING THIS MADNESS TAKES A HOLD I'M GRIPPIN' HARD ON A SPINNIN' WHEEL KNUCKLES WHITE ICY COLD I'M GRIPPIN' WET MINDS BLEEDING THIS MADNESS TAKES MY SOUL I'M DRIPPIN' SWEAT GRIPPIN' A SPINNIN' WHEEL SPITTIN' SPARKS ON THE DEVIL'S HEELS I'M DRIPPIN' SWEAT MINDS BLEEDING THIS MADNESS TAKES A HOLD I'M DRIPPIN' SWEAT GRIPPIN' A SPINNIN' WHEEL WAITIN' FOR THE DEATH KNELL PEEL A BLACK DEVILS TONGUE ROLLS OUT BEFORE ME HISSING, LICKING, FLAMING & SPITTING I'M ON THE RUN FROM THE DEMON INSIDE ME GRINDING WINDING CHURNING AND BURNING A SCREAMING BULLET TEARS FROM HELLS OWN KEEP THUNDER QUAKES OF LAUGHTER FROM THE BELLY OF THE BEAST A BLACK DEVILS TONGUE ROLLS OUT BEFORE ME HISSING, LICKING, FLAMING & SPITTING I'M ON THE RUN FROM THE EVIL INSIDE ME GRINDING WINDING CHURNING AND BURNING THIS RUPTURED CHASM ERUPTS SPLINTERING THE HEAP WILDFIRE SPITTING FROM INFERNAL DEEP MUSCULAR SKELETAL CONTORTING BODY BRACED IS FORCING SPITTIN SPARKS GRINDIN' WHEELS KICKIN' FAST AT THE DEVIL'S HEELS FLIRTING WITH PSYCHOSIS THIS MADNESS TAKES 'A' HOLD I'M DRIPPIN' SWEAT GRIPPIN A SPINNIN' WHEEL GRINDIN' SPARKS AT THE DEVIL'S HEELS I'M DRIPPIN' WET MINDS BLEEDING THIS MADNESS TAKES A HOLD I'M GRIPPIN' HARD ON A SPINNIN' WHEEL KNUCKLES WHITE ICY COLD I'M GRIPPIN' WET MINDS BLEEDING THIS MADNESS TAKES MY SOUL I'M DRIPPIN' SWEAT GRIPPIN' A SPINNIN' WHEEL SPITTIN' SPARKS ON THE DEVIL'S HEELS I'M DRIPPIN' SWEAT MINDS BLEEDING THIS MADNESS TAKES A HOLD I'M DRIPPIN' SWEAT GRIPPIN' A SPINNIN' WHEEL WAITIN' FOR THE DEATH KNELL PEEL THESE DARK WINGS SPREAD OVER MY HORIZON REIGN IN EVIL REIGN IN FREEDOM REIGN IN HELL THESE RIVERS RUN WITH BLOOD FLOWING TO THE FLOOD THESE RIVERS RUN WITH BLOOD FLOWING TO THE FLOOD FROM THE GNASHING TEETH OF THE JAWS OF HELL RASPING GASPING SEETHING AND BREATHING MOVING FASTER THAN THE TOLL OF THAT FATEFUL BELL WREAK CRAKE SHREIKS AND SHAKES THE HEATH WINDIN' DOWN THAT STEEP SLIDE SLIPPERY SLOPE LANDSCAPE RACING THROUGH MY MIND WINDIN' DOWN THAT SLIPPERY SLOPE LANDSLIDE RACING THROUGH MY MIND WINDIN' DOWN THAT STEEP SIDE SLIPPERY SLOPE BLACK TRACKS RACING THROUGH MY MIND

113

Oh, Prince Philip, you have served us for so long, For seventy years… The Queen’s Kephas, the rock! Sometimes it seems that you have always been here... Like a Servant of the Monarchy, like power, like glory! Oh, Prince Philip, the son of the Greek Corfu, You, the Danish Hamlet, you, the brave soldier! Today your life has died out, today you go to sleep... So to sleep forever… with God in a permanent covenant! Your city is crying and the rain is pouring down hard! Sorrow on the faces of the Britons... You died during the plague, You left like Paris, real, in the morning, in the spring... Where are you going now? What kind of images do you see? What is there after death? Will you reveal these secrets? Are you taking these to the grave, for yourself, unfortunately?... 9.4.2021., On the day of the death of the Greek, Danish and English Prince Philip, husband of the Queen.

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Apr 9, 2021

Apr 9, 2021 at 1:25 PM UTC

dawid-butryn-neubauer

Sonnet in honour of the Duke of Edinburgh Philip

Oh, Prince Philip, you have served us for so long, For seventy years… The Queen’s Kephas, the rock! Sometimes it seems that you have always been here... Like a Servant of the Monarchy, like power, like glory! Oh, Prince Philip, the son of the Greek Corfu, You, the Danish Hamlet, you, the brave soldier! Today your life has died out, today you go to sleep... So to sleep forever… with God in a permanent covenant! Your city is crying and the rain is pouring down hard! Sorrow on the faces of the Britons... You died during the plague, You left like Paris, real, in the morning, in the spring... Where are you going now? What kind of images do you see? What is there after death? Will you reveal these secrets? Are you taking these to the grave, for yourself, unfortunately?... 9.4.2021., On the day of the death of the Greek, Danish and English Prince Philip, husband of the Queen.

16

Little tails wiggle waggle up and down the walk, I follow after their orange laughter, wishing they could talk. Well, talk they can, and talk they do, While I am listening out of view. I giggle at their rubber feet flip-flopping on the ground and smile at their velvet feathers while I try to make no sound. When I get close, food bowl in hand, trying to gain their trust They quack a warning that says 'Stay clear!' - my mission is a bust! The little couple waddle on, eyeing me with care, I watch until I see them taking off into the air. Now I'm waiting for tomorrow when I hope to see them, Margaret and Philip, as I have fondly named them.

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Apr 3, 2020

Apr 3, 2020 at 7:04 PM UTC

SaigeWrites

My Wild Ducks

Little tails wiggle waggle up and down the walk, I follow after their orange laughter, wishing they could talk. Well, talk they can, and talk they do, While I am listening out of view. I giggle at their rubber feet flip-flopping on the ground and smile at their velvet feathers while I try to make no sound. When I get close, food bowl in hand, trying to gain their trust They quack a warning that says 'Stay clear!' - my mission is a bust! The little couple waddle on, eyeing me with care, I watch until I see them taking off into the air. Now I'm waiting for tomorrow when I hope to see them, Margaret and Philip, as I have fondly named them.

12

Abide by Michael R. Burch after Philip Larkin's "Aubade" It is hard to understand or accept mortality— such an alien concept: not to be. Perhaps unsettling enough to spawn religion, or to scare mutant fish out of a primordial sea boiling like goopy green tea in a kettle. Perhaps a man should exhibit more mettle than to admit such fear, denying Nirvana exists simply because we are stuck here in such a fine fettle. And so we abide . . . even in life, staring out across that dark brink. And if the thought of death makes your questioning heart sink, it is best not to drink (or, drinking, certainly not to think). Originally published by Light. Keywords/Tags: Philip Larkin, Aubade, abide, death, mortality, religion, drink, drinking, drunk, alcohol, fettle, mettle, Nirvana

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Mar 24, 2020

Mar 24, 2020 at 8:44 PM UTC

michael-r-burch

Abide (after Philip Larkin's "Aubade")

Abide by Michael R. Burch after Philip Larkin's "Aubade" It is hard to understand or accept mortality— such an alien concept: not to be. Perhaps unsettling enough to spawn religion, or to scare mutant fish out of a primordial sea boiling like goopy green tea in a kettle. Perhaps a man should exhibit more mettle than to admit such fear, denying Nirvana exists simply because we are stuck here in such a fine fettle. And so we abide . . . even in life, staring out across that dark brink. And if the thought of death makes your questioning heart sink, it is best not to drink (or, drinking, certainly not to think). Originally published by Light. Keywords/Tags: Philip Larkin, Aubade, abide, death, mortality, religion, drink, drinking, drunk, alcohol, fettle, mettle, Nirvana

17

What goes on in your glowing head when you sit in front of your harp eyes wide shut your fingers thread and pluck, syncing with our heart the way you majestically play fills my ears with angelic tones stunned, I can't look away from your heavenly flowing bones Harp forged from Hephaestus' gold pluck and pick easy as a river's flow soft harmonies of Philip Glass enfold and just for a moment, forgotten woes

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Aug 25, 2018

Aug 25, 2018 at 3:51 PM UTC

EvilShredder

Orpheus Reincarnated

What goes on in your glowing head when you sit in front of your harp eyes wide shut your fingers thread and pluck, syncing with our heart the way you majestically play fills my ears with angelic tones stunned, I can't look away from your heavenly flowing bones Harp forged from Hephaestus' gold pluck and pick easy as a river's flow soft harmonies of Philip Glass enfold and just for a moment, forgotten woes

12

Where are the mist gone? Where are the temperate resting? Where did the hours fall? Why fall into disappearance now, and not then? Where was the sight then when beauty unraveled and was available? They graves upon a dark mountain. Not of blackness you see, But of sweet chocolate and glowing skin of tenderness. They have rest upon the dark cheeks. Not of darkness you see, But of softness and amiable cheeks. They have been shortsightedness, Not of you but of me. It is like a river that runs from the nose of a highness peak, Falling down like a waterfall of silver lining that create ripples of smile and series of laughter. This is not a mountain of rocks, It is a mountain of flesh. This is not a mountain of dried leaves and dead plants, It is a mountain of a living heart upon a consumed soul. It is love. It is Sholaye's. Her smiles run through the sea and cause the ocean to fall heavy. Her dimples is less seen yet drinks the ocean dry. Her eyes are reflection of the best things that life can give... A momentum of peace, A monument of joy and laughter, A mortgage of what true love is. It doesn't cry, yet a droplet of tear is carried upon a chariot. Hola, did I mention her voice? It doesn't yell, yet it echoes across the valleys. It doesn't sing, yet everything that falls to her sound dances. I was blind before, but now I can see. But what do I see? A sense of emotion perhaps... Or a fence of what seemed to be loved? I can only wait at the sideline... But upon a thousand dreams, I will walk through the shores with you. I can only have a glimpse of your affections... But upon a thousand desires, it is most cherished. Aye, the mist are here. The temperate aren't resting, But the sun is rising. And my sight have caught its beauty.

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Nov 18, 2017

Nov 18, 2017 at 4:03 PM UTC

Ophil12

Belated Feelings

Where are the mist gone? Where are the temperate resting? Where did the hours fall? Why fall into disappearance now, and not then? Where was the sight then when beauty unraveled and was available? They graves upon a dark mountain. Not of blackness you see, But of sweet chocolate and glowing skin of tenderness. They have rest upon the dark cheeks. Not of darkness you see, But of softness and amiable cheeks. They have been shortsightedness, Not of you but of me. It is like a river that runs from the nose of a highness peak, Falling down like a waterfall of silver lining that create ripples of smile and series of laughter. This is not a mountain of rocks, It is a mountain of flesh. This is not a mountain of dried leaves and dead plants, It is a mountain of a living heart upon a consumed soul. It is love. It is Sholaye's. Her smiles run through the sea and cause the ocean to fall heavy. Her dimples is less seen yet drinks the ocean dry. Her eyes are reflection of the best things that life can give... A momentum of peace, A monument of joy and laughter, A mortgage of what true love is. It doesn't cry, yet a droplet of tear is carried upon a chariot. Hola, did I mention her voice? It doesn't yell, yet it echoes across the valleys. It doesn't sing, yet everything that falls to her sound dances. I was blind before, but now I can see. But what do I see? A sense of emotion perhaps... Or a fence of what seemed to be loved? I can only wait at the sideline... But upon a thousand dreams, I will walk through the shores with you. I can only have a glimpse of your affections... But upon a thousand desires, it is most cherished. Aye, the mist are here. The temperate aren't resting, But the sun is rising. And my sight have caught its beauty.

42

There was a time when I would've dutifully left a note to my mother pinned to the chest of my corpse swinging in the bathroom. Then there was a time when I wouldn't have left a note, and finally there came a time when I wouldn't have hanged myself.

0

Aug 29, 2016

Aug 29, 2016 at 6:49 PM UTC

jayseth-guberman

The Irony of Ronald Nimkin

There was a time when I would've dutifully left a note to my mother pinned to the chest of my corpse swinging in the bathroom. Then there was a time when I wouldn't have left a note, and finally there came a time when I wouldn't have hanged myself.

7

We can remember it for you wholesale once we clear the stage of initial erase Sure I might lisp on a drunk night, exasperated and claiming in collapse, I'd rather pack rat the memories in one place and consign my pain away to tall tales. I'm drowned, running down wi-fi 6th street. Printing my soles to follow my heels as inescapably I lose track of me.

0

Mar 21, 2015

Mar 21, 2015 at 2:20 AM UTC

lux-capacitor

Rule of Rows: "Rat Tribal"

We can remember it for you wholesale once we clear the stage of initial erase Sure I might lisp on a drunk night, exasperated and claiming in collapse, I'd rather pack rat the memories in one place and consign my pain away to tall tales. I'm drowned, running down wi-fi 6th street. Printing my soles to follow my heels as inescapably I lose track of me.

9

Just 'cause I eat don't mean I waste Didn't they pick the brain best for me 'fore I came out into the big sterile box? Anyone speaking anything: Look at, glare, scowl Sniff palms before dance party a little talc, not scary no more Personality a ***** shoes too big won't buy new, no new new no! I'm faking it for a ticket to ride source my quotes and I pretend to tolerate your music blog monologue Come on with me to manifest dreams! space behind the couch where kief is free! Couple decades to spare and the **** stacks high Playing the bucket like a drum Fair-trade hand-made local organic counterfeit bills No Mama, I don' wanna punch card. Dad, I ain't payin' rent 'er union dues Tax man's comin' eat the root strike it too! If I was a hippie don'tcha think I'd giggle? I'm a good choreographer but this costume's threadbare All the chakras in the world can't melt cold bars The Black Iron Prison is bigger than God. I become small, let me be the breath...... The baby's first laugh.

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Nov 6, 2014

Nov 6, 2014 at 12:26 PM UTC

andrew-wenson

Frugal

Just 'cause I eat don't mean I waste Didn't they pick the brain best for me 'fore I came out into the big sterile box? Anyone speaking anything: Look at, glare, scowl Sniff palms before dance party a little talc, not scary no more Personality a ***** shoes too big won't buy new, no new new no! I'm faking it for a ticket to ride source my quotes and I pretend to tolerate your music blog monologue Come on with me to manifest dreams! space behind the couch where kief is free! Couple decades to spare and the **** stacks high Playing the bucket like a drum Fair-trade hand-made local organic counterfeit bills No Mama, I don' wanna punch card. Dad, I ain't payin' rent 'er union dues Tax man's comin' eat the root strike it too! If I was a hippie don'tcha think I'd giggle? I'm a good choreographer but this costume's threadbare All the chakras in the world can't melt cold bars The Black Iron Prison is bigger than God. I become small, let me be the breath...... The baby's first laugh.

26