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"affright" poems
I. Hear the sledges with the bells— Silver bells! What a world of merriment their melody foretells! How they ****** ****** ****** In their icy air of night! While the stars, that oversprinkle All the heavens, seem to twinkle With a crystalline delight; Keeping time, time, time, In a sort of Runic rhyme, To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells From the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells— From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells. II. Hear the mellow wedding bells, Golden bells! What a world of happiness their harmony foretells! Through the balmy air of night How they ring out their delight! From the molten golden-notes, And all in tune, What a liquid ditty floats To the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloats On the moon! Oh, from out the sounding cells, What a gush of euphony voluminously wells! How it swells! How it dwells On the future! how it tells Of the rapture that impels To the swinging and the ringing Of the bells, bells, bells, Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells— To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells! III. Hear the loud alarum bells— Brazen bells! What a tale of terror now their turbulency tells! In the startled ear of night How they scream out their affright! Too much horrified to speak, They can only shriek, shriek, Out of tune, In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire, In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire Leaping higher, higher, higher, With a desperate desire, And a resolute endeavor Now—now to sit or never, By the side of the pale-faced moon. Oh, the bells, bells, bells! What a tale their terror tells Of Despair! How they clang, and clash, and roar! What a horror they outpour On the ***** of the palpitating air! Yet the ear it fully knows, By the twanging, And the clanging, How the danger ebbs and flows; Yet the ear distinctly tells, In the jangling, And the wrangling, How the danger sinks and swells, By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells— Of the bells— Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells— In the clamor and the clangor of the bells! IV. Hear the tolling of the bells— Iron bells! What a world of solemn thought their monody compels! In the silence of the night, How we shiver with affright At the melancholy menace of their tone! For every sound that floats From the rust within their throats Is a groan. And the people—ah, the people— They that dwell up in the steeple. All alone, And who toiling, toiling, toiling, In that muffled monotone, Feel a glory in so rolling On the human heart a stone— They are neither man nor woman— They are neither brute nor human— They are Ghouls: And their king it is who tolls; And he rolls, rolls, rolls, Rolls A paean from the bells! And his merry ***** swells With the paean of the bells! And he dances, and he yells; Keeping time, time, time, In a sort of Runic rhyme, To the paean of the bells— Of the bells: Keeping time, time, time, In a sort of Runic rhyme, To the throbbing of the bells— Of the bells, bells, bells— To the sobbing of the bells; Keeping time, time, time, As he knells, knells, knells, In a happy Runic rhyme, To the rolling of the bells— Of the bells, bells, bells— To the tolling of the bells, Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells— To the moaning and the groaning of the bells.
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The Bells
I. Hear the sledges with the bells— Silver bells! What a world of merriment their melody foretells! How they ****** ****** ****** In their icy air of night! While the stars, that oversprinkle All the heavens, seem to twinkle With a crystalline delight; Keeping time, time, time, In a sort of Runic rhyme, To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells From the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells— From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells. II. Hear the mellow wedding bells, Golden bells! What a world of happiness their harmony foretells! Through the balmy air of night How they ring out their delight! From the molten golden-notes, And all in tune, What a liquid ditty floats To the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloats On the moon! Oh, from out the sounding cells, What a gush of euphony voluminously wells! How it swells! How it dwells On the future! how it tells Of the rapture that impels To the swinging and the ringing Of the bells, bells, bells, Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells— To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells! III. Hear the loud alarum bells— Brazen bells! What a tale of terror now their turbulency tells! In the startled ear of night How they scream out their affright! Too much horrified to speak, They can only shriek, shriek, Out of tune, In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire, In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire Leaping higher, higher, higher, With a desperate desire, And a resolute endeavor Now—now to sit or never, By the side of the pale-faced moon. Oh, the bells, bells, bells! What a tale their terror tells Of Despair! How they clang, and clash, and roar! What a horror they outpour On the ***** of the palpitating air! Yet the ear it fully knows, By the twanging, And the clanging, How the danger ebbs and flows; Yet the ear distinctly tells, In the jangling, And the wrangling, How the danger sinks and swells, By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells— Of the bells— Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells— In the clamor and the clangor of the bells! IV. Hear the tolling of the bells— Iron bells! What a world of solemn thought their monody compels! In the silence of the night, How we shiver with affright At the melancholy menace of their tone! For every sound that floats From the rust within their throats Is a groan. And the people—ah, the people— They that dwell up in the steeple. All alone, And who toiling, toiling, toiling, In that muffled monotone, Feel a glory in so rolling On the human heart a stone— They are neither man nor woman— They are neither brute nor human— They are Ghouls: And their king it is who tolls; And he rolls, rolls, rolls, Rolls A paean from the bells! And his merry ***** swells With the paean of the bells! And he dances, and he yells; Keeping time, time, time, In a sort of Runic rhyme, To the paean of the bells— Of the bells: Keeping time, time, time, In a sort of Runic rhyme, To the throbbing of the bells— Of the bells, bells, bells— To the sobbing of the bells; Keeping time, time, time, As he knells, knells, knells, In a happy Runic rhyme, To the rolling of the bells— Of the bells, bells, bells— To the tolling of the bells, Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells— To the moaning and the groaning of the bells.
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117
The world's a bubble; and the life of man less than a span. In his conception wretched; from the womb so to the tomb: Curst from the cradle, and brought up to years, with cares and fears. Who then to frail mortality shall trust, But limns the water, or but writes in dust. Yet, since with sorrow here we live oppress'd, what life is best? Courts are but only superficial schools to dandle fools: The rural parts are turn'd into a den of savage men: And where's a city from all vice so free, But may be term'd the worst of all the three? Domestic cares afflict the husband's bed, or pains his head: Those that live single, take it for a curse, or do things worse: Some would have children; those that have them none; or wish them gone. What is it then to have no wife, but single thralldom or a double strife? Our own affections still at home to please, is a disease: To cross the sea to any foreign soil, perils and toil: Wars with their noise affright us: when they cease, We are worse in peace: What then remains, but that we still should cry, Not to be born, or being born, to die.
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The Life of Man
The Centaur, Sagittarius, am I, Born of Ixion’s and the cloud’s embrace; With sounding hoofs across the earth I fly, A steed Thessalian with a human face. Sharp winds the arrows are with which I chase The leaves, half dead already with affright; I shroud myself in gloom; and to the race Of mortals bring nor comfort nor delight.
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The Poet’s Calendar: 11 - November
On Lolham Brigs in wild and lonely mood I’ve seen the winter floods their gambols play Through each old arch that trembled while I stood Bent o’er its wall to watch the dashing spray As their old stations would be washed away Crash came the ice against the jambs and then A shudder jarred the arches—yet once more It breasted raving waves and stood agen To wait the shock as stubborn as before —White foam brown crested with the russet soil As washed from new plough lands would dart beneath Then round and round a thousand eddies boil On tother side—then pause as if for breath One minute—and engulphed—like life in death Whose wrecky stains dart on the floods away More swift than shadows in a stormy day Straws trail and turn and steady—all in vain The engulfing arches shoot them quickly through The feather dances flutters and again Darts through the deepest dangers still afloat Seeming as faireys whisked it from the view And danced it o’er the waves as pleasures boat Light hearted as a thought in May— Trays—uptorn bushes—fence demolished rails Loaded with weeds in sluggish motions stray Like water monsters lost each winds and trails Till near the arches—then as in affright It plunges—reels—and shudders out of sight Waves trough—rebound—and fury boil again Like plunging monsters rising underneath Who at the top curl up a shaggy main A moment catching at a surer breath Then plunging headlong down and down—and on Each following boil the shadow of the last And other monsters rise when those are gone Crest their fringed waves—plunge onward and are past —The chill air comes around me ocean blea From bank to bank the waterstrife is spread Strange birds like snow spots o’er the huzzing sea Hang where the wild duck hurried past and fled On roars the flood—all restless to be free Like trouble wandering to eternity
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The Flood
On Lolham Brigs in wild and lonely mood I’ve seen the winter floods their gambols play Through each old arch that trembled while I stood Bent o’er its wall to watch the dashing spray As their old stations would be washed away Crash came the ice against the jambs and then A shudder jarred the arches—yet once more It breasted raving waves and stood agen To wait the shock as stubborn as before —White foam brown crested with the russet soil As washed from new plough lands would dart beneath Then round and round a thousand eddies boil On tother side—then pause as if for breath One minute—and engulphed—like life in death Whose wrecky stains dart on the floods away More swift than shadows in a stormy day Straws trail and turn and steady—all in vain The engulfing arches shoot them quickly through The feather dances flutters and again Darts through the deepest dangers still afloat Seeming as faireys whisked it from the view And danced it o’er the waves as pleasures boat Light hearted as a thought in May— Trays—uptorn bushes—fence demolished rails Loaded with weeds in sluggish motions stray Like water monsters lost each winds and trails Till near the arches—then as in affright It plunges—reels—and shudders out of sight Waves trough—rebound—and fury boil again Like plunging monsters rising underneath Who at the top curl up a shaggy main A moment catching at a surer breath Then plunging headlong down and down—and on Each following boil the shadow of the last And other monsters rise when those are gone Crest their fringed waves—plunge onward and are past —The chill air comes around me ocean blea From bank to bank the waterstrife is spread Strange birds like snow spots o’er the huzzing sea Hang where the wild duck hurried past and fled On roars the flood—all restless to be free Like trouble wandering to eternity
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42
Daughter of Jove, relentless Power, Thou tamer of the human breast, Whose iron scourge and tort’ring hour The Bad affright, afflict the Best! Bound in thy adamantine chain The Proud are taught to taste of pain, And purple Tyrants vainly groan With pangs unfelt before, unpitied and alone. When first thy Sire to send on earth Virtue, his darling child, designed, To thee he gave the heav’nly Birth, And bade to form her infant mind. Stern rugged Nurse! thy rigid lore With patience many a year she bore: What sorrow was, thou bad’st her know, And from her own she learned to melt at others’ woe. Scared at thy frown terrific, fly Self-pleasing Folly’s idle brood, Wild Laughter, Noise, and thoughtless Joy, And leave us leisure to be good. Light they disperse, and with them go The summer Friend, the flatt’ring Foe; By vain Prosperity received, To her they vow their truth, and are again believed. Wisdom in sable garb arrayed Immersed in rapt’rous thought profound, And Melancholy, silent maid With leaden eye, that loves the ground, Still on thy solemn steps attend: Warm Charity, the gen’ral Friend, With Justice, to herself severe, And Pity dropping soft the sadly-pleasing tear. Oh, gently on thy Suppliant’s head, Dread Goddess, lay thy chast’ning hand! Not in thy Gorgon terrors clad, Not circled with the vengeful Band (As by the Impious thou art seen), With thund’ring voice, and threat’ning mien, With screaming Horror’s funeral cry, Despair, and fell Disease, and ghastly Poverty. Thy form benign, O Goddess, wear, Thy milder influence impart, Thy philosophic Train be there To soften, not to wound my heart. The gen’rous spark extinct revive, Teach me to love and to forgive, Exact my own defects to scan, What others are, to feel, and know myself a Man.
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Hymn To Adversity
Daughter of Jove, relentless Power, Thou tamer of the human breast, Whose iron scourge and tort’ring hour The Bad affright, afflict the Best! Bound in thy adamantine chain The Proud are taught to taste of pain, And purple Tyrants vainly groan With pangs unfelt before, unpitied and alone. When first thy Sire to send on earth Virtue, his darling child, designed, To thee he gave the heav’nly Birth, And bade to form her infant mind. Stern rugged Nurse! thy rigid lore With patience many a year she bore: What sorrow was, thou bad’st her know, And from her own she learned to melt at others’ woe. Scared at thy frown terrific, fly Self-pleasing Folly’s idle brood, Wild Laughter, Noise, and thoughtless Joy, And leave us leisure to be good. Light they disperse, and with them go The summer Friend, the flatt’ring Foe; By vain Prosperity received, To her they vow their truth, and are again believed. Wisdom in sable garb arrayed Immersed in rapt’rous thought profound, And Melancholy, silent maid With leaden eye, that loves the ground, Still on thy solemn steps attend: Warm Charity, the gen’ral Friend, With Justice, to herself severe, And Pity dropping soft the sadly-pleasing tear. Oh, gently on thy Suppliant’s head, Dread Goddess, lay thy chast’ning hand! Not in thy Gorgon terrors clad, Not circled with the vengeful Band (As by the Impious thou art seen), With thund’ring voice, and threat’ning mien, With screaming Horror’s funeral cry, Despair, and fell Disease, and ghastly Poverty. Thy form benign, O Goddess, wear, Thy milder influence impart, Thy philosophic Train be there To soften, not to wound my heart. The gen’rous spark extinct revive, Teach me to love and to forgive, Exact my own defects to scan, What others are, to feel, and know myself a Man.
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48
Unto whose use the pregnant suns are poised, With idiot moons and stars retracting stars? Creep thou between—thy coming’s all unnoised. Heaven hath her high, as Earth her baser, wars. Heir to these tumults, this affright, that fray (By Adam’s, fathers’, own, sin bound alway); Peer up, draw out thy horoscope and say Which planet mends thy threadbare fate, or mars.
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Kim
I wonder 'oo and wot 'e was, That 'Un I got so slick. I couldn't see 'is face because The night was 'ideous thick. I just made out among the black A blinkin' wedge o' white; Then biff! I guess I got 'im crack -- The man I killed last night. I wonder if account o' me Some ***** will go ***** And 'eaps o' lives will never be, Because 'e's stark and dead? Or if 'is missis damns the war, And by some candle light, Tow-headed kids are prayin' for The Fritz I copped last night. I wonder, 'struth, I wonder why I 'ad that 'orful dream? I saw up in the giddy sky The gates o' God agleam; I saw the gates o' 'eaven shine Wiv everlastin' light: And then . . . I knew that I'd got mine, As 'e got 'is last night. Aye, bang beyond the broodin' mists Where spawn the mother stars, I 'ammered wiv me ****** fists Upon them golden bars; I 'ammered till a devil's doubt Fair froze me wiv affright: To fink wot God would say about The bloke I corpsed last night. I 'ushed; I wilted wiv despair, When, like a rosy flame, I sees a angel standin' there 'Oo calls me by me name. 'E 'ad such soft, such shiny eyes; 'E 'eld 'is 'and and smiled; And through the gates o' Paradise 'E led me like a child. 'E led me by them golden palms Wot 'ems that jeweled street; And seraphs was a-singin' psalms, You've no ideer 'ow sweet; Wiv cheroobs crowdin' closer round Than peas is in a pod, 'E led me to a shiny mound Where beams the throne o' God. And then I 'ears God's werry voice: "Bill 'agan, 'ave no fear. Stand up and glory and rejoice For 'im 'oo led you 'ere." And in a nip I seemed to see: Aye, like a flash o' light, My angel pal I knew to be The chap I plugged last night. Now, I don't claim to understand -- They calls me Bonehead Bill; They shoves a rifle in me 'and, And show me 'ow to **** Me job's to risk me life and limb, But . . . be it wrong or right, This cross I'm makin', it's for 'im, The cove I croaked last night.
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Bonehead Bill
I wonder 'oo and wot 'e was, That 'Un I got so slick. I couldn't see 'is face because The night was 'ideous thick. I just made out among the black A blinkin' wedge o' white; Then biff! I guess I got 'im crack -- The man I killed last night. I wonder if account o' me Some ***** will go ***** And 'eaps o' lives will never be, Because 'e's stark and dead? Or if 'is missis damns the war, And by some candle light, Tow-headed kids are prayin' for The Fritz I copped last night. I wonder, 'struth, I wonder why I 'ad that 'orful dream? I saw up in the giddy sky The gates o' God agleam; I saw the gates o' 'eaven shine Wiv everlastin' light: And then . . . I knew that I'd got mine, As 'e got 'is last night. Aye, bang beyond the broodin' mists Where spawn the mother stars, I 'ammered wiv me ****** fists Upon them golden bars; I 'ammered till a devil's doubt Fair froze me wiv affright: To fink wot God would say about The bloke I corpsed last night. I 'ushed; I wilted wiv despair, When, like a rosy flame, I sees a angel standin' there 'Oo calls me by me name. 'E 'ad such soft, such shiny eyes; 'E 'eld 'is 'and and smiled; And through the gates o' Paradise 'E led me like a child. 'E led me by them golden palms Wot 'ems that jeweled street; And seraphs was a-singin' psalms, You've no ideer 'ow sweet; Wiv cheroobs crowdin' closer round Than peas is in a pod, 'E led me to a shiny mound Where beams the throne o' God. And then I 'ears God's werry voice: "Bill 'agan, 'ave no fear. Stand up and glory and rejoice For 'im 'oo led you 'ere." And in a nip I seemed to see: Aye, like a flash o' light, My angel pal I knew to be The chap I plugged last night. Now, I don't claim to understand -- They calls me Bonehead Bill; They shoves a rifle in me 'and, And show me 'ow to **** Me job's to risk me life and limb, But . . . be it wrong or right, This cross I'm makin', it's for 'im, The cove I croaked last night.
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64
What if this present were the world’s last night? Mark in my heart, O soul, where thou dost dwell, The picture of Christ crucified, and tell Whether that countenance can thee affright, Tears in his eyes quench the amazing light, Blood fills his frowns, which from his pierced head fell. And can that tongue adjudge thee unto hell, Which prayed forgiveness for his foes’ fierce spite? No, no; but as in my idolatry I said to all my profane mistresses, Beauty, of pity, foulness only is A sign of rigour: so I say to thee, To wicked spirits are horrid shapes assigned, This beauteous form assures a piteous mind.
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Holy Sonnet XIII: What If This Present Were The World’s Last Night?
In the beginning was the Word… And only then was the world. Out of chaos and the darkness, Out of nowhere and the blackness… Something more than a miracle happened Filled with warmth and light that sparkled. The world got name and became alive! All around began to thrive. Not in gratitude, not out of a sense of duty It believed in truly saints and only beauty. Eyes opened and stood in delight It could invite, excite but not to affright. In the beginning was the Word… And that word was God. Earth and sky, the stars and oceans, Without emotions but with devotions. Rains and snows, beauty forebodes And even the dust of not traversed roads. It would be ridiculous and naive To dream about the dawns, be a sensitive. To be the hands on the starry clock, To make on the land a beautiful woodblock. As all that had already been put wise. And in time the Sun could arise. In the beginning was the Word… And that word was Peace Everything could freely breathe. If you remove it, the chaos will again start, The universal fear and black exhaustion, The indifference and world of combustion. The worm of doubts shouldn’t gnaw the heart! The rest is later and the second will be smart. For some it is unusual and one can’t agree But as to me in different way it could not be. You have to hear Him to be reborn again. His Word is saint and everything explain. In the beginning was the Word… And that word was Love. The beginning of all beginnings and all the springs, The beginning of all the most beautiful things. The beginning of all the sources and a new start. You have to hear it and know as it is Gods art. In the beginning was the Word… ©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine) The 25th of January, 2013
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Jan 31, 2013
Jan 31, 2013 at 4:35 PM UTC
In the beginning was the Word...
In the beginning was the Word… And only then was the world. Out of chaos and the darkness, Out of nowhere and the blackness… Something more than a miracle happened Filled with warmth and light that sparkled. The world got name and became alive! All around began to thrive. Not in gratitude, not out of a sense of duty It believed in truly saints and only beauty. Eyes opened and stood in delight It could invite, excite but not to affright. In the beginning was the Word… And that word was God. Earth and sky, the stars and oceans, Without emotions but with devotions. Rains and snows, beauty forebodes And even the dust of not traversed roads. It would be ridiculous and naive To dream about the dawns, be a sensitive. To be the hands on the starry clock, To make on the land a beautiful woodblock. As all that had already been put wise. And in time the Sun could arise. In the beginning was the Word… And that word was Peace Everything could freely breathe. If you remove it, the chaos will again start, The universal fear and black exhaustion, The indifference and world of combustion. The worm of doubts shouldn’t gnaw the heart! The rest is later and the second will be smart. For some it is unusual and one can’t agree But as to me in different way it could not be. You have to hear Him to be reborn again. His Word is saint and everything explain. In the beginning was the Word… And that word was Love. The beginning of all beginnings and all the springs, The beginning of all the most beautiful things. The beginning of all the sources and a new start. You have to hear it and know as it is Gods art. In the beginning was the Word… ©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine) The 25th of January, 2013
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45
Her eyes the glow-worm lend thee, The shooting stars attend thee; And the elves also, Whose little eyes glow Like the sparks of fire, befriend thee. No Will-o’-th’-Wisp mislight thee, Nor snake or slow-worm bite thee; But on, on thy way, Not making a stay, Since ghost there’s none to affright thee. Let not the dark thee cumber: What though the moon does slumber? The stars of the night Will lend thee their light Like tapers clear without number. Then, Julia, let me woo thee, Thus, thus to come unto me; And when I shall meet Thy silv’ry feet My soul I’ll pour into thee.
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The Night-Piece, To Julia
In Ocean’s wide domains, Half buried in the sands, Lie skeletons in chains, With shackled feet and hands. Beyond the fall of dews, Deeper than plummet lies, Float ships, with all their crews, No more to sink nor rise. There the black Slave-ship swims, Freighted with human forms, Whose fettered, fleshless limbs Are not the sport of storms. These are the bones of Slaves; They gleam from the abyss; They cry, from yawning waves, “We are the Witnesses!” Within Earth’s wide domains Are markets for men’s lives; Their necks are galled with chains, Their wrists are cramped with gyves. Dead bodies, that the kite In deserts makes its prey; Murders, that with affright Scare school-boys from their play! All evil thoughts and deeds; Anger, and lust, and pride; The foulest, rankest weeds, That choke Life’s groaning tide! These are the woes of Slaves; They glare from the abyss; They cry, from unknown graves, “We are the Witnesses!”
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The Witnesses
i. Seraphim, betimes we shalt crack this inter-web bourn, awaiteth I, tis with tear's from these eye's, though the waiting wilt purify, ourn ventricles to an unfamiliar door. ii. None reason for Affright, mine soul doth leadeth the way, O' amour' Jane, thine hari's here to stay. Afresh to the new day, ourn canorous spirit's pave the serenade; something lost to olden flutes. iii. Barefeet- None sandals, the luggage we carrieth wilt be of God, almighty; supernatural. Powerful crystalline stone- lucid, god-hand castles. iv. It's not against flesh and blood love, that we do wrestle, but against spiritual wickedness in high and low places, we conquer demonic armies, and nephilim faces. An ambassage we sendeth to the human races, that they mayest love another, and forgive, and to forget their past disgraces. As tis Queen Jane; alms wilt be seen on the wall's, encased with ourn names. As I wilt catcheth thee, when through the cloud's thou doth fall... ©Brandon Nagley ©Lonesome poet's poetry ©Earl Jane Nagley ( Filipino rose) dedicated
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Jan 21, 2016
Jan 21, 2016 at 8:37 PM UTC
Paratoi'r ysbryd Canorous yn y Serenade ( Canorous spirit's pave the serenade) welsh tongue
Many lips never gave them any sporting chance, As far as that Championship was concerned. Left they the shores of the country, perchance, To boot their thorny way to a certain end. In the first two games sheer mediocrity Displayed they, finishing both in a draw. Most fans and analysts on their heads heavy Words heaped, saying they'd not get a straw From the tournament. Came the third match, Which they won relievingly, 2-0 was the Score. Coming 2nd in the group they did ****** Scraping a quarter-final berth against the Ivory Coast team, the competition's chief favorite. At this stage all hopes of further advancement, Like mists, vanished. Folks and fans affright Were that the boys against their next opponent-- Even ere they kicked the ball--would surely lose. For how would they face such an assemblage Of stars on parade and prevail! They did cruise To the semi final however by grit and gauge. Like an eagle dear soared they over the Mali Main team too, by 4 goals to 1. When the wind Fiercest is, against thunderstorm, the eagle amazingly Would glide through it. And that was the kind Of spirit the Nigeria Super Eagles possessed that Made them triumph after 19 years at the Africa Cup of Nations over others, when they beat by 1-0 flat In the finals Burkina Faso, despite opposition tough. Pundits and people seldom give us success Chances in life, seeming to have our very fate In their hands. Yet, like daring David did press Forward to confront Goliath great with his faith Firm in God and self, likewise so must every Soul serious and desirous about his destiny do. For no mortal being over our fortune final authority Has on earth. Coach Stephen Keshi and his crew Believed in the players and themselves and went On to lift the Orange Africa Cup in that event.
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Feb 17, 2013
Feb 17, 2013 at 8:06 AM UTC
The Super Eagles
Many lips never gave them any sporting chance, As far as that Championship was concerned. Left they the shores of the country, perchance, To boot their thorny way to a certain end. In the first two games sheer mediocrity Displayed they, finishing both in a draw. Most fans and analysts on their heads heavy Words heaped, saying they'd not get a straw From the tournament. Came the third match, Which they won relievingly, 2-0 was the Score. Coming 2nd in the group they did ****** Scraping a quarter-final berth against the Ivory Coast team, the competition's chief favorite. At this stage all hopes of further advancement, Like mists, vanished. Folks and fans affright Were that the boys against their next opponent-- Even ere they kicked the ball--would surely lose. For how would they face such an assemblage Of stars on parade and prevail! They did cruise To the semi final however by grit and gauge. Like an eagle dear soared they over the Mali Main team too, by 4 goals to 1. When the wind Fiercest is, against thunderstorm, the eagle amazingly Would glide through it. And that was the kind Of spirit the Nigeria Super Eagles possessed that Made them triumph after 19 years at the Africa Cup of Nations over others, when they beat by 1-0 flat In the finals Burkina Faso, despite opposition tough. Pundits and people seldom give us success Chances in life, seeming to have our very fate In their hands. Yet, like daring David did press Forward to confront Goliath great with his faith Firm in God and self, likewise so must every Soul serious and desirous about his destiny do. For no mortal being over our fortune final authority Has on earth. Coach Stephen Keshi and his crew Believed in the players and themselves and went On to lift the Orange Africa Cup in that event.
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38
Kinda fainted Friday nite, De doctor, he come, he say, "Son you done give us a genuine affright." De doctor, he come, he say, "Son, it's the end o' day, Get your **** in bed straightaway" "Here's what you be needing: twelve tablets of hourly salting, no halting eight hours bed rest, no dreaming, four gallons o' tap water, drinking, no stopping,   ***"and for god's sakery, cease and desist from this writing, poetry nonsense fakery."*** Weakly, I protested, "My poems are the waste products, the excretions of salt water tears, a thousand years in the making, dreams foretelling and retelling events disturbing. If not removed, disinterred by their inscribing, these poisonous emotions, shall surely cause once more my fainting and falling demotion." He frowned, de doctor, he was perturbed, his medical thinking cap was for sure disturbed! With sighs that made my heart to be a stirring , De doctor, he come, he say, held forth as following, quiet murmuring: "Here is my prescription: if you musting, but with strict limitations it be enforcing: *No more than four po-ems De doctor permit to be writ* per hour."
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Oct 14, 2017
Oct 14, 2017 at 10:37 AM UTC
Kinda fainted Friday nite
Your pardon, my friend, If my rhymes did offend, Your pardon, a thousand times o’er; From friendship I strove, Your pangs to remove, But, I swear, I will do so no more. Since your beautiful maid, Your flame has repaid, No more I your folly regret; She’s now most divine, And I bow at the shrine, Of this quickly reformèd coquette. Yet still, I must own, I should never have known, From your verses, what else she deserv’d; Your pain seem’d so great, I pitied your fate, As your fair was so dev’lish reserv’d. Since the balm-breathing kiss Of this magical Miss, Can such wonderful transports produce; Since the “world you forget, When your lips once have met,” My counsel will get but abuse. You say, “When I rove,” “I know nothing of love;” Tis true, I am given to range; If I rightly remember, I’ve lov’d a good number; Yet there’s pleasure, at least, in a change. I will not advance, By the rules of romance, To humour a whimsical fair; Though a smile may delight, Yet a frown will affright, Or drive me to dreadful despair. While my blood is thus warm, I ne’er shall reform, To mix in the Platonists’ school; Of this I am sure, Was my Passion so pure, Thy Mistress would think me a fool. And if I should shun, Every woman for one, Whose image must fill my whole breast; Whom I must prefer, And sigh but for her, What an insult ’twould be to the rest! Now Strephon, good-bye; I cannot deny, Your passion appears most absurd; Such love as you plead, Is pure love, indeed, For it only consists in the word.
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1.1k
To The Sighing Strephon
Your pardon, my friend, If my rhymes did offend, Your pardon, a thousand times o’er; From friendship I strove, Your pangs to remove, But, I swear, I will do so no more. Since your beautiful maid, Your flame has repaid, No more I your folly regret; She’s now most divine, And I bow at the shrine, Of this quickly reformèd coquette. Yet still, I must own, I should never have known, From your verses, what else she deserv’d; Your pain seem’d so great, I pitied your fate, As your fair was so dev’lish reserv’d. Since the balm-breathing kiss Of this magical Miss, Can such wonderful transports produce; Since the “world you forget, When your lips once have met,” My counsel will get but abuse. You say, “When I rove,” “I know nothing of love;” Tis true, I am given to range; If I rightly remember, I’ve lov’d a good number; Yet there’s pleasure, at least, in a change. I will not advance, By the rules of romance, To humour a whimsical fair; Though a smile may delight, Yet a frown will affright, Or drive me to dreadful despair. While my blood is thus warm, I ne’er shall reform, To mix in the Platonists’ school; Of this I am sure, Was my Passion so pure, Thy Mistress would think me a fool. And if I should shun, Every woman for one, Whose image must fill my whole breast; Whom I must prefer, And sigh but for her, What an insult ’twould be to the rest! Now Strephon, good-bye; I cannot deny, Your passion appears most absurd; Such love as you plead, Is pure love, indeed, For it only consists in the word.
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54
There is a light shining so bright Lightening everything in sight There is no reason to hide What you feel deep inside But you can't describe If they ask why You have no reply No answer is right Heart and mind fight In a course of time, you find You must follow your heart with pleasure and no affright
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Jun 5, 2017
Jun 5, 2017 at 1:27 PM UTC
follow your heart
just like the midnight lark I rise each midnightto listen in delight to the sound   that I have grown to love. for her words have grown on me intertwined inside my memories. every night I need her voice to set the moment right. just like the lark I am a servant of the sky bound toroam across my dreams.Her song intones me. I am stronger than the leaves. in a stiff summer breeze. sweet harmony be my guide and lead me to the other side.my passage has been paid by the dreams before I’ve laid.but do not be affright, I dreamt of you tonight. so sing me lullabies from you perch up in the skyand I’ll dream a dream so true, and I’ll only dream of you.that I’ll wake amidst the nightwondering why you’re not by my side.then I’ll heave a heavy sigh as my ears have been trained to find,your fervent song that forever keeps me hanging onto the last few precious moments, of a night that creeps along.so,  sing me a song o’ black ruby of the night.draw your inspiration amongst the starlit night.for dreams do come true as dreamers often pray,but on an on another day.  good bird I do praythat God will bless your wings, for without your holy sound my life would come unwound.  o’ poet of the treesyour verse sedates my mind to a gentle ease.in mediation ‘tis true that all I hear is you.o’ poet of the skies and singer of lullabies, I dream dreams so true of me and of you- .  allow me to be frankof hiker of the leaves,  and drifter of the trees,may you play for mea song so seldom sung to the silver sliver stuck above.I’ve fashioned a dream today of which I wish to playbut I have no melody to accompany my fantasy.so songbird of the night, sing me a song so rightand let your symphony surprise the stillness of the night. in these words I trust you’ll forever know my loveas strong as the rushing tide pulled from the silver disc above.black ruby of the night like a thief you stole my heart,ransom off my being but keep my soul intact, this is all I ask.first sound I fell in love with your evanescence glowthat radiates to me as roses attract bees.your bittersweet melody invigorates my being.wind comes to tear the leaves from ceiling treesbut the roots hold fast and the leaves survive and my soul has crossed the tide.to dream a dream so true as dreamers often liein bunks made of trees to slumber through the tide. in your song I am free to think,I am firm in my beliefs,I am stronger than the leaves.2005-
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Feb 21, 2010
Feb 21, 2010 at 9:41 AM UTC
Black Ruby of the Night
just like the midnight lark I rise each midnightto listen in delight to the sound   that I have grown to love. for her words have grown on me intertwined inside my memories. every night I need her voice to set the moment right. just like the lark I am a servant of the sky bound toroam across my dreams.Her song intones me. I am stronger than the leaves. in a stiff summer breeze. sweet harmony be my guide and lead me to the other side.my passage has been paid by the dreams before I’ve laid.but do not be affright, I dreamt of you tonight. so sing me lullabies from you perch up in the skyand I’ll dream a dream so true, and I’ll only dream of you.that I’ll wake amidst the nightwondering why you’re not by my side.then I’ll heave a heavy sigh as my ears have been trained to find,your fervent song that forever keeps me hanging onto the last few precious moments, of a night that creeps along.so,  sing me a song o’ black ruby of the night.draw your inspiration amongst the starlit night.for dreams do come true as dreamers often pray,but on an on another day.  good bird I do praythat God will bless your wings, for without your holy sound my life would come unwound.  o’ poet of the treesyour verse sedates my mind to a gentle ease.in mediation ‘tis true that all I hear is you.o’ poet of the skies and singer of lullabies, I dream dreams so true of me and of you- .  allow me to be frankof hiker of the leaves,  and drifter of the trees,may you play for mea song so seldom sung to the silver sliver stuck above.I’ve fashioned a dream today of which I wish to playbut I have no melody to accompany my fantasy.so songbird of the night, sing me a song so rightand let your symphony surprise the stillness of the night. in these words I trust you’ll forever know my loveas strong as the rushing tide pulled from the silver disc above.black ruby of the night like a thief you stole my heart,ransom off my being but keep my soul intact, this is all I ask.first sound I fell in love with your evanescence glowthat radiates to me as roses attract bees.your bittersweet melody invigorates my being.wind comes to tear the leaves from ceiling treesbut the roots hold fast and the leaves survive and my soul has crossed the tide.to dream a dream so true as dreamers often liein bunks made of trees to slumber through the tide. in your song I am free to think,I am firm in my beliefs,I am stronger than the leaves.2005-
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9
112 Where bells no more affright the morn— Where scrabble never comes— Where very nimble Gentlemen Are forced to keep their rooms— Where tired Children placid sleep Thro’ Centuries of noon This place is Bliss—this town is Heaven— Please, Pater, pretty soon! “Oh could we climb where Moses stood, And view the Landscape o’er” Not Father’s bells—nor Factories, Could scare us any more!
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Where bells no more affright the morn
Don’t stare below, The heights to a higher place affright you. The ground shook, the air frigid, the people stood in shock. You kept your balance. you threaten to descend, they send a plea, begging you to ascend. The others, calling you to step off the ledge. We’re not fools. This isn’t a test, We’re sorry you let your guard down, Don’t let this get to you. You’re not misplaced. Risking your life, Benefiting the satisfaction of others; Won’t solve your problem. Evaluate before you subjugate. From your distance, They’re just little specks in the concrete. The limit is the sky. You can become what your heart desires. I’m cognizant of the stranger’s honest opinion, They barely know who you are. They say what they’ve said before. Why not change it? Show them you’re incredible. Prove to them you’re not a failure, be their friend - not their foe. Explain to them what brought you this far, I’m sure they’ll be happy to assist, Give you a helping hand. Take your time, I’ll be waiting. When I turn back around, I expect you to come back to me. We all care, dear. It just takes a moment to find out. To put your faith back and restore your trust. We all have a purpose; you just have to set out and discover your own.
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Sep 23, 2012
Sep 23, 2012 at 4:04 PM UTC
Purpose in Life
Save me! I'm so afraid of falling off All radars and locators of existence. Save me! I'm so afraid of waking up And making sense that I'm at far distance. Save me! While it's no late at all, While I can hear the pain inside and see the light. Save me! While it's still possible. While I'm here, cause tomorrow's my affright.
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May 18, 2025
May 18, 2025 at 4:38 PM UTC
Save me!
A very important bird hit my mind with its beak, With a message from the long lost leaves, Shattered memories travelled to a far mountain peak. You'll have to work hard to gather them so wear your greaves I have come here as a delicate cue, For your evanescent self to be soon in sight, Don't be conquered and affright. Towards the veritable direction, the bird flew.
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Dec 21, 2018
Dec 21, 2018 at 5:38 PM UTC
Aspects of The Past
Do you heed the call of the sea my son, do you hear it’s voice? No sir, only a murmuring whence the silver fish rejoice. Do you mark the sound of the sea as the tide o’er flows the strand? A little I do I think sir, for it speaks of a foreign land. Does the sound of thunder affright you, or the flash so vivid and bright? No sir it does not affright me, it fills me with wondrous delight. What think you the life of a sailor? could you leave those you love on the strand and stride off over the shingle to face dangers in far away lands? Plainly that would be hard sir, and my heart would be broken in two, but I think I should just have to bear it, for that is what sailors must do!
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Jun 11, 2014
Jun 11, 2014 at 7:21 AM UTC
SEASIDE CONVERSATION
How I Feel Today !! Breaks the cold in bitter night When silence On You very tight been lost In point where no light Is this was Wrong or It was right !!! Heart and mind are getting fight Been sweaty, shaking, and affright Wondering if there is new day bright If my moon in instance deadweight so worried about you and very freight it's a big wound and never was slight Come to the window, sweet is the night-air! The tide is full, the moon lies fair Everything looks like hell How should I feel well there is nothing to tell stars going down to fall walls of heart are in backfill lonely Guy inside the Cell Wild boy feeling the chill words Don't explain how I feel now it was just like a rose cull The situation of fool very droll Come to the window, sweet is the night-air! The tide is full, the moon lies fair you are the only one who can hold me the one who can stop the Fire aflame You Hold it Now or anytime Don't make it late and make it the prime or slash it now and make the crime The Floor Was ready To play the game You Win It now or you lose it by Time make it a shame Or The one supreme The light was shining winsome The moon witness saving scheme Come to the window, sweet is the night-air! The tide is full, the moon lies fair Author / Aladdin Aures Hamdi Stay-Still Stay Strong
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May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 2:24 PM UTC
How I Feel Today !!!