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"beau" poems
‘To bed! To bed!’ Said Sleepy-head; ‘Tarry awhile,’ said Slow; ‘Put on the pan,’ Said Greedy Nan; ‘We'll sup before we go.’ (from Mother Goose) They sat at the kitchen table as The candle flickered low, And Greedy Nan put on the pan To indulge her sister, Slow, While Sleepy Weepy Annabelle Blotted her book with tears, And thought of her Beau from long ago Who she hadn’t seen for years. ‘Why doesn’t Roger notice me, Why doesn’t Alan Dell? I’m wearing the dress cut low for me And I’ve hitched my skirt as well. I’ve a pretty turn to my ankle, so You’d think it would drive them wild.’ ‘But men are a mystery,’ said Slow, ‘And Alan Dell’s a child.’ While over the pan stood Greedy Nan, Was cracking a turkey’s egg, A lump of yeast and a slice of beast And a single spider’s leg. With a wing of bat and an ounce of fat And a toe of frog for the spell, She needed to turn her sister off From her crush on Alan Dell. For Greedy Nan was the eldest girl And would have to marry first, The other two would wait in the queue Or their fortunes be reversed, The omelette sizzled, and in the pan She added before they saw, A piece of some Devil’s Trumpet plant For the mating game meant war. She sliced the omelette into half And she served them up a piece, ‘Didn’t you want?’ said Annabelle But Slow enjoyed the feast. ‘I’m not that terribly hungry now I’ve cooked it up in the pan, I think I’ll just have a slice of bread,’ Said the scheming Greedy Nan. They finished up and they sat awhile, And they mused about their fate, ‘If Greedy Nan isn’t married soon, For us it will be too late.’ ‘I’ve set my sights on a country squire,’ Said Nan, without a blink, Lured them away from her secret fire To confuse what they might think. ‘The room is woozy, spinning around, I’d better get me to bed,’ Said Annabelle, while Slow with a frown Saw Dwarves dancing in her head. But Greedy Nan was cleaning the pan To clear all signs of the spell, Her back was turned to her sisters, spurned For the sake of Alan Dell. And when he came in the morning Greedy Nan was sat by the door, While Annabelle and her sister Slow Were lying dead on the floor, ‘I didn’t mean it to **** them, Al, It was only a simple spell,’ But as he cuffed and led her away He frowned, did Alan Dell. David Lewis Paget
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Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 8:01 PM UTC
To Bed! To Bed!
‘To bed! To bed!’ Said Sleepy-head; ‘Tarry awhile,’ said Slow; ‘Put on the pan,’ Said Greedy Nan; ‘We'll sup before we go.’ (from Mother Goose) They sat at the kitchen table as The candle flickered low, And Greedy Nan put on the pan To indulge her sister, Slow, While Sleepy Weepy Annabelle Blotted her book with tears, And thought of her Beau from long ago Who she hadn’t seen for years. ‘Why doesn’t Roger notice me, Why doesn’t Alan Dell? I’m wearing the dress cut low for me And I’ve hitched my skirt as well. I’ve a pretty turn to my ankle, so You’d think it would drive them wild.’ ‘But men are a mystery,’ said Slow, ‘And Alan Dell’s a child.’ While over the pan stood Greedy Nan, Was cracking a turkey’s egg, A lump of yeast and a slice of beast And a single spider’s leg. With a wing of bat and an ounce of fat And a toe of frog for the spell, She needed to turn her sister off From her crush on Alan Dell. For Greedy Nan was the eldest girl And would have to marry first, The other two would wait in the queue Or their fortunes be reversed, The omelette sizzled, and in the pan She added before they saw, A piece of some Devil’s Trumpet plant For the mating game meant war. She sliced the omelette into half And she served them up a piece, ‘Didn’t you want?’ said Annabelle But Slow enjoyed the feast. ‘I’m not that terribly hungry now I’ve cooked it up in the pan, I think I’ll just have a slice of bread,’ Said the scheming Greedy Nan. They finished up and they sat awhile, And they mused about their fate, ‘If Greedy Nan isn’t married soon, For us it will be too late.’ ‘I’ve set my sights on a country squire,’ Said Nan, without a blink, Lured them away from her secret fire To confuse what they might think. ‘The room is woozy, spinning around, I’d better get me to bed,’ Said Annabelle, while Slow with a frown Saw Dwarves dancing in her head. But Greedy Nan was cleaning the pan To clear all signs of the spell, Her back was turned to her sisters, spurned For the sake of Alan Dell. And when he came in the morning Greedy Nan was sat by the door, While Annabelle and her sister Slow Were lying dead on the floor, ‘I didn’t mean it to **** them, Al, It was only a simple spell,’ But as he cuffed and led her away He frowned, did Alan Dell. David Lewis Paget
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72
I wake as your  friend                                     You wake as my lover I speak as your lover                                       You speak as my friend I act as your possession                                   You are my possesion I rebel as your cover                                        A means to an end I hurt for your compassion                             You live for my acceptance I injure for your respect                                  Though it's never been withheld I confide for your emotion                              You crave my direction I give and you collect                                      Never will you rebel This is madness                                               This is Sparta This is insanity                                                This is the price of exellence I can't be everything for you                          I am your everything You can't be everything for me                     I am magnificence You treat everyone the same                         I am fair and righteous As a friend, yet as a lover                              And yet you seek more And it's a cruel, cruel game                          Dare you grow capricious From your twisted love, no one recovers     You'll become one I abhor I am done                                                       You are confused (I am never done)                                          And I will not calm you I am sick                                                        *As I am amused* (But I'm not tired)                                         As I drop little clues   I will run                                                        You'll never leave me (I won't run)                                                  But I'll abandon you Because I love you                                        You'll always need me (A better word is 'desire')                             And I'll never need you Let me go!                                                    My grip is vice-like (But you're not holding me)                       I'm not ready to let you go Bring me back!                                            If I lose you, 'my dear' (But I never left)                                          I must find yet another 'beau' Love me only!                                             And I've not the time to put effort (But you love equally)                               In little minions like you Push me away!                                          I've not a care to give for (Or bridge this rift)                                    You insects I never knew Please, disappear                                       I am your torture One day you'll understand                      But I am your salvation That the twisted way you love                 I am your executioner Could coax death from any human        And I am your redemption Please, disappear!                                     You'll wish me dead forever Though I'll weep when you're gone        You'll wish me dead I know I know sanity will return                          And you'll wish yourself deader And I'll eventually move on.                    When away I finally go.
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Apr 9, 2013
Apr 9, 2013 at 8:25 PM UTC
Parallel Insanity
I wake as your  friend                                     You wake as my lover I speak as your lover                                       You speak as my friend I act as your possession                                   You are my possesion I rebel as your cover                                        A means to an end I hurt for your compassion                             You live for my acceptance I injure for your respect                                  Though it's never been withheld I confide for your emotion                              You crave my direction I give and you collect                                      Never will you rebel This is madness                                               This is Sparta This is insanity                                                This is the price of exellence I can't be everything for you                          I am your everything You can't be everything for me                     I am magnificence You treat everyone the same                         I am fair and righteous As a friend, yet as a lover                              And yet you seek more And it's a cruel, cruel game                          Dare you grow capricious From your twisted love, no one recovers     You'll become one I abhor I am done                                                       You are confused (I am never done)                                          And I will not calm you I am sick                                                        *As I am amused* (But I'm not tired)                                         As I drop little clues   I will run                                                        You'll never leave me (I won't run)                                                  But I'll abandon you Because I love you                                        You'll always need me (A better word is 'desire')                             And I'll never need you Let me go!                                                    My grip is vice-like (But you're not holding me)                       I'm not ready to let you go Bring me back!                                            If I lose you, 'my dear' (But I never left)                                          I must find yet another 'beau' Love me only!                                             And I've not the time to put effort (But you love equally)                               In little minions like you Push me away!                                          I've not a care to give for (Or bridge this rift)                                    You insects I never knew Please, disappear                                       I am your torture One day you'll understand                      But I am your salvation That the twisted way you love                 I am your executioner Could coax death from any human        And I am your redemption Please, disappear!                                     You'll wish me dead forever Though I'll weep when you're gone        You'll wish me dead I know I know sanity will return                          And you'll wish yourself deader And I'll eventually move on.                    When away I finally go.
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40
A chaque fois que tu rentres de bonne heure, Mon coeur se remplit de Bonheur. Tu illumines nos soirées monotones, Tu nous fais rire avec tes blagues, même si elles redondonnent. Avec toi on ne s'ennuie jamais, On parle, on crie, on s'échange des secrets. Tu n'hésites pas à nous faire des câlins, Même quand tu t'en vas de bon matin. On n'aime pas te voir partir si **** On préfère quand tu restes dans le coin. La Russie, c'est comme le bout du monde, Heureusement que tu n'es pas James Bond! On aime te voir à la maison, Avec tes pyjamas troués et ta barbe de bison. Même pas peur quand tu vas chez le coiffeur, On connaît ta tête de pomme par cœur! On a beau se plaindre de ton penchant pour les sucreries, Il faut avouer qu'un peu de graisse, c'est aussi confortable qu'un lit. Même si tu trempes ton pain au fromage dans ton café, Nous, on a même pas peur de t'embrasser. On a toujours hâte que tu reviennes, Même si ca ne fait pas une heure que tu es parti. Ne t'inquiètes pas on restera les mêmes, On sera toujours là pour te faire des guilis. T'es le roi des bisous, t'es le roi des Papas, On t'aimera toujours, même si tu manges du chocolat!
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Sep 20, 2014
Sep 20, 2014 at 6:12 AM UTC
Papa
She says she doesn’t have the strength within herself to write poetry. Yes, her. The one who so often nourished me with song til my soul began to learn how to hunt for itself, whose word carried weight in leading me to pick my own instrument, albeit one of a different tone, as the key in keyboard became prominent for the first time and the sound of purposeful fingers upon it could be considered, only in the right light, synonymous to the plucking of strings, just as rooted in emotion. Yet she's the first to say that she herself can't do it. Thing is, I suppose we’re politely at odds on the matter. She favors poetry that’s sharper, with a cleaner cut, that’s message is immediate and jarring as a conduit running from soul through skin, or a loose-lipped diary finally freed from lock and key. And when she declared it, I started to consider what my poems seem to me: Blackberry bushes (but kinder, I hope) that snag and immerse just long enough to make me feel I’ve had an effect. I’ve used writing to expel my most gnarled feelings to any passerby who’s maybe felt the same. Like crying in a mirror: alarming, but oddly refreshing, and an indefinite reminder that our aches are never only our own. Still, I'm not sure why it blows my mind to hear that even the most glamorous hearts, who wear confidence as a summer breeze that's always in their favor and who inspire, from beau gestures to sleight of hand, are included in those who find themselves pacing back, back and forth, begging curbside at the dime store for a scrap of the same feed that convinces a heart to pump ink. But she says that any art that's enjoyed is worth it. So while she seeks out words that bare the bones, I’ll stay and make a meal of the marrow, hollowing them so that the poetry may have a rightful place to reverberate as hymns in a universal monastery. But hell, like I’m any old soul. I dress nicer than I otherwise would, turn to the mother who told me I don’t meet her lowest standards, and ask for a critique. All for the moment when she greets me at the door with a legendary G#. ...Now please, could you spare a dime?
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Jun 28, 2018
Jun 28, 2018 at 2:27 PM UTC
This Just In: No Showboat's Without a Few Leaks, Either
She says she doesn’t have the strength within herself to write poetry. Yes, her. The one who so often nourished me with song til my soul began to learn how to hunt for itself, whose word carried weight in leading me to pick my own instrument, albeit one of a different tone, as the key in keyboard became prominent for the first time and the sound of purposeful fingers upon it could be considered, only in the right light, synonymous to the plucking of strings, just as rooted in emotion. Yet she's the first to say that she herself can't do it. Thing is, I suppose we’re politely at odds on the matter. She favors poetry that’s sharper, with a cleaner cut, that’s message is immediate and jarring as a conduit running from soul through skin, or a loose-lipped diary finally freed from lock and key. And when she declared it, I started to consider what my poems seem to me: Blackberry bushes (but kinder, I hope) that snag and immerse just long enough to make me feel I’ve had an effect. I’ve used writing to expel my most gnarled feelings to any passerby who’s maybe felt the same. Like crying in a mirror: alarming, but oddly refreshing, and an indefinite reminder that our aches are never only our own. Still, I'm not sure why it blows my mind to hear that even the most glamorous hearts, who wear confidence as a summer breeze that's always in their favor and who inspire, from beau gestures to sleight of hand, are included in those who find themselves pacing back, back and forth, begging curbside at the dime store for a scrap of the same feed that convinces a heart to pump ink. But she says that any art that's enjoyed is worth it. So while she seeks out words that bare the bones, I’ll stay and make a meal of the marrow, hollowing them so that the poetry may have a rightful place to reverberate as hymns in a universal monastery. But hell, like I’m any old soul. I dress nicer than I otherwise would, turn to the mother who told me I don’t meet her lowest standards, and ask for a critique. All for the moment when she greets me at the door with a legendary G#. ...Now please, could you spare a dime?
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42
Beneath the bracing maple tree Awaits a beau, pursued heart's key Cold sweaty hands, timid was he As if he's dosed with ecstasy To woo this beautiful princess, Hath played a fiddle effortless Heart beats loud beneath pastel dress Mind's been puzzled, soon she'll confess She don't regret, she won't forget For that so moment felt kismet Will they be lovers? Make a guess, It all depends if she said yes
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Feb 23, 2019
Feb 23, 2019 at 9:37 PM UTC
The Suitor
Tes yeux sont si profonds qu'en me penchant pour boire J'ai vu tous les soleils y venir se mirer S'y jeter à mourir tous les désespérés Tes yeux sont si profonds que j'y perds la mémoire À l'ombre des oiseaux c'est l'océan troublé Puis le beau temps soudain se lève et tes yeux changent L'été taille la nue au tablier des anges Le ciel n'est jamais bleu comme il l'est sur les blés Les vents chassent en vain les chagrins de l'azur Tes yeux plus clairs que lui lorsqu'une larme y luit Tes yeux rendent jaloux le ciel d'après la pluie Le verre n'est jamais si bleu qu'à sa brisure Mère des Sept douleurs ô lumière mouillée Sept glaives ont percé le prisme des couleurs Le jour est plus poignant qui point entre les pleurs L'iris troué de noir plus bleu d'être endeuillé Tes yeux dans le malheur ouvrent la double brèche Par où se reproduit le miracle des Rois Lorsque le coeur battant ils virent tous les trois Le manteau de Marie accroché dans la crèche Une bouche suffit au mois de Mai des mots Pour toutes les chansons et pour tous les hélas Trop peu d'un firmament pour des millions d'astres Il leur fallait tes yeux et leurs secrets gémeaux L'enfant accaparé par les belles images Écarquille les siens moins démesurément Quand tu fais les grands yeux je ne sais si tu mens On dirait que l'averse ouvre des fleurs sauvages Cachent-ils des éclairs dans cette lavande où Des insectes défont leurs amours violentes Je suis pris au filet des étoiles filantes Comme un marin qui meurt en mer en plein mois d'août J'ai retiré ce radium de la pechblende Et j'ai brûlé mes doigts à ce feu défendu Ô paradis cent fois retrouvé reperdu Tes yeux sont mon Pérou ma Golconde mes Indes Il advint qu'un beau soir l'univers se brisa Sur des récifs que les naufrageurs enflammèrent Moi je voyais briller au-dessus de la mer Les yeux d'Elsa les yeux d'Elsa les yeux d'Elsa.
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5.8k
Les yeux d'Elsa
Tes yeux sont si profonds qu'en me penchant pour boire J'ai vu tous les soleils y venir se mirer S'y jeter à mourir tous les désespérés Tes yeux sont si profonds que j'y perds la mémoire À l'ombre des oiseaux c'est l'océan troublé Puis le beau temps soudain se lève et tes yeux changent L'été taille la nue au tablier des anges Le ciel n'est jamais bleu comme il l'est sur les blés Les vents chassent en vain les chagrins de l'azur Tes yeux plus clairs que lui lorsqu'une larme y luit Tes yeux rendent jaloux le ciel d'après la pluie Le verre n'est jamais si bleu qu'à sa brisure Mère des Sept douleurs ô lumière mouillée Sept glaives ont percé le prisme des couleurs Le jour est plus poignant qui point entre les pleurs L'iris troué de noir plus bleu d'être endeuillé Tes yeux dans le malheur ouvrent la double brèche Par où se reproduit le miracle des Rois Lorsque le coeur battant ils virent tous les trois Le manteau de Marie accroché dans la crèche Une bouche suffit au mois de Mai des mots Pour toutes les chansons et pour tous les hélas Trop peu d'un firmament pour des millions d'astres Il leur fallait tes yeux et leurs secrets gémeaux L'enfant accaparé par les belles images Écarquille les siens moins démesurément Quand tu fais les grands yeux je ne sais si tu mens On dirait que l'averse ouvre des fleurs sauvages Cachent-ils des éclairs dans cette lavande où Des insectes défont leurs amours violentes Je suis pris au filet des étoiles filantes Comme un marin qui meurt en mer en plein mois d'août J'ai retiré ce radium de la pechblende Et j'ai brûlé mes doigts à ce feu défendu Ô paradis cent fois retrouvé reperdu Tes yeux sont mon Pérou ma Golconde mes Indes Il advint qu'un beau soir l'univers se brisa Sur des récifs que les naufrageurs enflammèrent Moi je voyais briller au-dessus de la mer Les yeux d'Elsa les yeux d'Elsa les yeux d'Elsa.
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40
You were like a wild fire That I watched from a distance Yet somehow you caught my heart I wanted to be closer, in your presence So trusting, I reached out my hand In order to be embraced by you Aggressively, painfully you took it And naively I didn't have a clue That my hand claimed to be unfit You burned my skin around and through Crazily I thought I would get used to it Build up a tolerance that was tough and true I was mesmerized by your puzzling beauty How brightly you shined on your own Throughout the day until the night I never felt like I was alone However my tolerance Didn't seem to grow Your flames started to consume me Taking more as they go You weren't satisfied with a piece of me You wanted more than I could show Oddly enough I relished in it My crazy passionate joking beau
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Nov 25, 2018
Nov 25, 2018 at 7:41 PM UTC
Psychotic Seduction
Sometimes I wonder what you ever have seen in me, You stayed for 30 years, through thick and thin, Enduring all my flaws, loving patiently, Despite my disappointments and my sins. It hasn't been an easy road, I know, I've put you to the test more times than not. I've been a less than stellar beau, I wonder did you ever want me shot? I'm sloppy, weak, unkempt and always late, I haven't been the best at earning cash. Could this be what you wanted in a mate? I often think I've made our life a hash. I know I make you laugh once in awhile; Is that enough to keep you coming back? A chuckle here, an unexpected smile, Does that make up for everything I lack? I hope I give you something more than that, Perhaps a sense that life is not so grim. A lift in spirit, a peppy morning chat, Something to make you shake your head and grin. My contribution to our life is small, Diversion and distraction certainly, A joke or two, a pratfall, that is all I've learned to do, I'm sure you would agree. You've given so much more to me it's true. A rock, an anchor, a shelter from the gale. One thing's certain, I can count on you; You have a love that never flags or fails. I'm grateful for you every single day, There's not an hour goes by that I don't wonder why, You've stuck so long with me, but anyway, You did, and till the very day I die I'll say a prayer to God above, Thankful for your crazy stubborn love.
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Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 10:54 PM UTC
Crazy Stubborn Love
You are young, and I am older; You are hopeful, I am not— Enjoy life, ere it grow colder— Pluck the roses ere they rot. Teach your beau to heed the lay— That sunshine soon is lost in shade— That now’s as good as any day— To take thee, Rosa, ere she fade.
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3.5k
To Rosa
-the global strongman, and how to survive him "Our leader is a good man, he knows what is right." He needs no wicked science, all he needs is strong believers.      They don't like competence, they hate discretion.      Cast down your glance for their eager eyes. "Ang aming mga lider ay isang mabuting tao, alam niya kung ano ang tama." He is an ardent lover of justice, killing criminal vermin at all cost.      They want to bring you down, my friend,      they like us unlike them. "Wǒmen de lǐngdǎo shì yīgè hǎorén, tā zhīdào shénme shì duì de." He needs no shrewd lawyers, he senses who is guilty.      By hunger and chaos they make you foul your mouth,      our hate and cursing will set us all apart. "Nash lider - khoroshiy chelovek, on znayet, chto pravil'no." Now don't get naughty, you know, just behave.      Raise your head, man, raise your feeble voice:      let's sing our songs, let's come together. "Liderimiz iyi bir insandır, doğru olanı biliyor." He's towering above all of us, he'll crush the faintest uprising upfront.      Heureux qui comme Ulysse a fait un beau voyage      - et puis est retourne plein d'usage et raison.      Fortunate the guy who fared well on his travels      - and returned, a man of the world, full of wisdom. "Our leader is a good man, he knows what is right."
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Sep 18, 2017
Sep 18, 2017 at 3:44 PM UTC
This price for peace
Bewitched in the bass Too much tail ta chase Say he like tha way i slurp, no straw Just Raw, Joint-click-lighter-flick herb's tha word mums out for the night slammin her beau just like the dough to my room, pop a shroom in Cancún **** the doom of that mother ****** test. due in a few This ***** slew molly be on me Pop an ollie flip the switch bae lets ditch this day and **** like its flowin poetry SLAM thighs thunder for dat lightning **** Crocs... Imma bring that **** back. We've seized this moment by storm Now Lets tear the walls down Rage Pillage Prosper Party This land is our land Now let your freedom flag fly Lets get higher than the sky And cry cuz nothing tastes like forever Baby's powder makes the urking voice louder to DO SOMETHING instead of this hollow nothing I stuff with stories and dress in Lubriderm Cuz that ***** soft, baked this cake ain't delicious
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Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 5:49 AM UTC
A Piece of Cake
Mon papa, c'est le plus fort des papas. Mon papa, c'est le plus beau des papas. Mon papa, même quand il est fatigué, on dirait Richard Gere. Mon papa, même si il est carnivore, moi, je l'aime quand même. Mon papa, quand il mange, on dirait qu'il a 5 ans, mais moi, je l'aime quand même. Mon papa, il a des voitures super cool qui font vroom. Mon papa, quand il conduit, on dirait Michel Vaillant, même pas peur. Mon papa, quand il me dit bonne nuit, j'ai même plus peur. Les monstres sous mon lit, eux, ils se désintègrent avec la force des bisous de mon papa. Mon papa, parfois, il ronfle et je l'aime quand même. Mon papa, quand on est dans la piscine, il joue au crocrodile avec nous. Mon papa, quand il porte des choses, les manches de sa chemise se déchire sous les muscles. Mon papa, avec une barbe, on dirait un homme des caverne, c'est trop cool. Mon papa, quand il fait des câlins, on disparait sous ses couches d'amour. Mon papa, quand il nous emmène faire du shopping, il supporte des heures et il sourit. Mon papa, il nous laisse faire des trucs qui lui font peur, mais il veut nous faire plaisir, alors il dit oui. Mon papa, il m'a laissé faire du saut en parachute, et je suis même pas morte. Mon papa, il râle parfois mais on sait qu'en fait, c'est parce qu'il nous aime. Mon papa, même quand il voyage, il pense à nous. Mon papa, il nous emmène en voyage avec des photos tout le temps quand il travail. Mon papa, il nous emmène en voyage tout le temps quand il est en vacances. Mon papa, il fait des trucs de papa trop génial. Par exemple, il connait nos restaurants préférés, et il sait ce qui nous fait plaisir. Alors il nous y emmène. Mon papa, même quand il est en colère, il est beau. Mon papa, quand il sourit il est comme Thor, le dieu du tonnerre, il est puissant. Du coup, parfois, ma maman elle fait un nervous break down. Parce que mon papa il est trop beau c'est même pas normal. Mon papa, il a un double menton pour que si un jour Game Of Thrones arrive dans la vraie vie, on pourra pas lui trancher la gorge. Mon papa, il fait du vélo plus vite que le Tour de France. La preuve, ca fait des années qu'ils sont en France, mon papa, lui, il est déjà à Dubai. Mon papa, parfois il oublie notre anniversaire quand on lui demande au pif, mais il oublie jamais de le souhaiter, donc on lui pardonne. Mon papa, il voyage en first class. Mon papa, il connait les aéroports mieux que James Bond. Mon papa, il regarde des series TV de jeunes. Mon papa, il porte des costards. Mon papa, il nous emmène manger des dans endroits incroyables. Mon papa, il nous emmène dans des hôtels de luxe. Mon papa, il devrait être président du monde. Mon papa, il est mieux que les autres papa parce que c'est le mien. Mon papa, il est irremplaçable. Mon papa, si on m'en donnait un autre, j'en voudrais pas. Mon papa, je veux que celui la. Mon papa il est pas toujours là, mais c'est pas grave, parce qu'il est jamais **** Mon papa, il traverse le monde mais après il nous raconte, alors c'est cool. Mon papa, il fait une super vinaigrette. Dommage que j'aime pas la vinaigrette. Mon papa, quand il fait un barbeque, ca fait beaucoup de fumée et pas beaucoup de feu, mais c'est pour mieux nous impressioner quand il fait rôtir la viande. Mon papa, il parle Anglais. Mon papa, c'est le meilleur papa du monde. Mon papa, je l'aime, même si maintenant, il a presque un demi siècle. Mon papa, c'est comme un druide. Ca meurt jamais. C'est trop cool. Mon papa, c'est comme une mode indémodable, tu veux jamais le remplacer, il est toujours tendance. Mon papa, on peut pas le comparer a une mode fashion, parce que c'est un humain. Mon papa, c'est le meilleur humain que je connaisse. Avec ma maman et ma soeur et mon chat, mais chuuuuut. C'est un secret. Mais ce que je préfère à propos de mon papa, c'est que dès que je le vois, je peux lui dire: "mon papa, je l'aime."
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Sep 19, 2014
Sep 19, 2014 at 12:08 PM UTC
Mon papa
Mon papa, c'est le plus fort des papas. Mon papa, c'est le plus beau des papas. Mon papa, même quand il est fatigué, on dirait Richard Gere. Mon papa, même si il est carnivore, moi, je l'aime quand même. Mon papa, quand il mange, on dirait qu'il a 5 ans, mais moi, je l'aime quand même. Mon papa, il a des voitures super cool qui font vroom. Mon papa, quand il conduit, on dirait Michel Vaillant, même pas peur. Mon papa, quand il me dit bonne nuit, j'ai même plus peur. Les monstres sous mon lit, eux, ils se désintègrent avec la force des bisous de mon papa. Mon papa, parfois, il ronfle et je l'aime quand même. Mon papa, quand on est dans la piscine, il joue au crocrodile avec nous. Mon papa, quand il porte des choses, les manches de sa chemise se déchire sous les muscles. Mon papa, avec une barbe, on dirait un homme des caverne, c'est trop cool. Mon papa, quand il fait des câlins, on disparait sous ses couches d'amour. Mon papa, quand il nous emmène faire du shopping, il supporte des heures et il sourit. Mon papa, il nous laisse faire des trucs qui lui font peur, mais il veut nous faire plaisir, alors il dit oui. Mon papa, il m'a laissé faire du saut en parachute, et je suis même pas morte. Mon papa, il râle parfois mais on sait qu'en fait, c'est parce qu'il nous aime. Mon papa, même quand il voyage, il pense à nous. Mon papa, il nous emmène en voyage avec des photos tout le temps quand il travail. Mon papa, il nous emmène en voyage tout le temps quand il est en vacances. Mon papa, il fait des trucs de papa trop génial. Par exemple, il connait nos restaurants préférés, et il sait ce qui nous fait plaisir. Alors il nous y emmène. Mon papa, même quand il est en colère, il est beau. Mon papa, quand il sourit il est comme Thor, le dieu du tonnerre, il est puissant. Du coup, parfois, ma maman elle fait un nervous break down. Parce que mon papa il est trop beau c'est même pas normal. Mon papa, il a un double menton pour que si un jour Game Of Thrones arrive dans la vraie vie, on pourra pas lui trancher la gorge. Mon papa, il fait du vélo plus vite que le Tour de France. La preuve, ca fait des années qu'ils sont en France, mon papa, lui, il est déjà à Dubai. Mon papa, parfois il oublie notre anniversaire quand on lui demande au pif, mais il oublie jamais de le souhaiter, donc on lui pardonne. Mon papa, il voyage en first class. Mon papa, il connait les aéroports mieux que James Bond. Mon papa, il regarde des series TV de jeunes. Mon papa, il porte des costards. Mon papa, il nous emmène manger des dans endroits incroyables. Mon papa, il nous emmène dans des hôtels de luxe. Mon papa, il devrait être président du monde. Mon papa, il est mieux que les autres papa parce que c'est le mien. Mon papa, il est irremplaçable. Mon papa, si on m'en donnait un autre, j'en voudrais pas. Mon papa, je veux que celui la. Mon papa il est pas toujours là, mais c'est pas grave, parce qu'il est jamais **** Mon papa, il traverse le monde mais après il nous raconte, alors c'est cool. Mon papa, il fait une super vinaigrette. Dommage que j'aime pas la vinaigrette. Mon papa, quand il fait un barbeque, ca fait beaucoup de fumée et pas beaucoup de feu, mais c'est pour mieux nous impressioner quand il fait rôtir la viande. Mon papa, il parle Anglais. Mon papa, c'est le meilleur papa du monde. Mon papa, je l'aime, même si maintenant, il a presque un demi siècle. Mon papa, c'est comme un druide. Ca meurt jamais. C'est trop cool. Mon papa, c'est comme une mode indémodable, tu veux jamais le remplacer, il est toujours tendance. Mon papa, on peut pas le comparer a une mode fashion, parce que c'est un humain. Mon papa, c'est le meilleur humain que je connaisse. Avec ma maman et ma soeur et mon chat, mais chuuuuut. C'est un secret. Mais ce que je préfère à propos de mon papa, c'est que dès que je le vois, je peux lui dire: "mon papa, je l'aime."
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59
Penny got married young, she idolised her new man   Penny turned 16, said, I do I do, priest wed them both   Penny was happy, never complained to anyone, too shy for that   She crashed a party once, and met a gal named Sally   They became friends   And she confided in her     Shared little secrets, lips sealed, shook their little pinkies, never to tell   Then hubby walked in with curious smile, said you going to stay awhile   I'm not coming back until sunlight, best thing Penny had heard all night   ‘Cause her new beau, wasn’t all that he seemed   But only Penny knows so go go go oh no go     Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go   Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go   Feel you hurting beneath, when we cuddle-up   Fooling some, but mommy sees past that makeup     Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go     Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go   Feel you hurting beneath, when we cuddle up   Fooling some, but mommy sees past that makeup     Penny started staying inside, never going past the front gate   Some friends called saying you ok you ok you ok girlfriend   Penny searched websites, looking for a way out, deleting history, nobody got suspicious   While trying to play the good wife, reality started to sink in   Then she thought     Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go   Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go   Feel you hurting beneath, when we cuddle up   Fooling some, but mommy sees past that makeup     Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go   Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go   Feel you hurting beneath, when we cuddle up   Fooling some, but mommy sees past that makeup     And I don't want anyone knowing about the abuse, just in case   I've covered up since day one, swollen face   A nightmare, ever since our honeymoon   Childhood dreams were locked in a cell, but kept them alive and still didn’t tell, even while being slammed unconscious   It's like my security blanket, it's the reason that I'm alive   Everyone has childhood dreams, but most will never survive   They don’t always come true, maybe one out of five, be wise   Believing Hollywood tabloids, that they are still very much together, all lies   So go about your ways, put up with the one, that doesn’t love you anymore and continually hurts us and says sorry, again   Always just after they have, again bruised us   Forgetting about the pain and coverups that were made   Thinking it was just a sleeping nightmare, oh no     Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go   Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go   Feel you hurting beneath, when we cuddle up   Fooling some, but mommy sees past that makeup   Go now, Go now     Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go   Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go   Feel you hurting beneath, when we cuddle up   Fooling some, but mommy sees past that makeup   Go now, Go now
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Jan 14, 2020
Jan 14, 2020 at 1:58 AM UTC
Go Penny Go
Penny got married young, she idolised her new man   Penny turned 16, said, I do I do, priest wed them both   Penny was happy, never complained to anyone, too shy for that   She crashed a party once, and met a gal named Sally   They became friends   And she confided in her     Shared little secrets, lips sealed, shook their little pinkies, never to tell   Then hubby walked in with curious smile, said you going to stay awhile   I'm not coming back until sunlight, best thing Penny had heard all night   ‘Cause her new beau, wasn’t all that he seemed   But only Penny knows so go go go oh no go     Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go   Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go   Feel you hurting beneath, when we cuddle-up   Fooling some, but mommy sees past that makeup     Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go     Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go   Feel you hurting beneath, when we cuddle up   Fooling some, but mommy sees past that makeup     Penny started staying inside, never going past the front gate   Some friends called saying you ok you ok you ok girlfriend   Penny searched websites, looking for a way out, deleting history, nobody got suspicious   While trying to play the good wife, reality started to sink in   Then she thought     Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go   Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go   Feel you hurting beneath, when we cuddle up   Fooling some, but mommy sees past that makeup     Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go   Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go   Feel you hurting beneath, when we cuddle up   Fooling some, but mommy sees past that makeup     And I don't want anyone knowing about the abuse, just in case   I've covered up since day one, swollen face   A nightmare, ever since our honeymoon   Childhood dreams were locked in a cell, but kept them alive and still didn’t tell, even while being slammed unconscious   It's like my security blanket, it's the reason that I'm alive   Everyone has childhood dreams, but most will never survive   They don’t always come true, maybe one out of five, be wise   Believing Hollywood tabloids, that they are still very much together, all lies   So go about your ways, put up with the one, that doesn’t love you anymore and continually hurts us and says sorry, again   Always just after they have, again bruised us   Forgetting about the pain and coverups that were made   Thinking it was just a sleeping nightmare, oh no     Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go   Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go   Feel you hurting beneath, when we cuddle up   Fooling some, but mommy sees past that makeup   Go now, Go now     Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go   Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go   Feel you hurting beneath, when we cuddle up   Fooling some, but mommy sees past that makeup   Go now, Go now
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54
The poet’s quill scribes a vision of the debutante as she rests amongst the bluebells Scattered like jewels over the meadow. The delicate voice of the robins Echo through the valley, Where the gentleman tells of his ardor As they shelter amongst the weeping willows. Curls tumble from the confines of her hat, Parasol tilting to hide girlish blushes, Careless of her silk skirts they are crushed, lying as broken rose petals. She glows with the joy of an un-chaperoned picnic Scent of cinnamon scrolls tempt her senses, as her beau offers cider to moisten their suddenly dry throats. Dapper in his impeccable finery, Coat tails trailing, crisply starched shirt points lifting his chin, Top hat tilted at a rakish angle. Dark eye’s glinting with the thrill of his endeavors. Sunshine silhouettes the glory of the lovers, whom the poet has sewn together as an artist creates a masterpiece. Each syllable as a brushstroke on canvas. A Monet made not of oil and brushes, But ink and parchment. Every word scribed by the care of the poet, Transformed within the mind of the reader
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Oct 21, 2009
Oct 21, 2009 at 12:59 AM UTC
Scribed masterpiece
The summer air is cooling gradually, The peaches are off their trees, The leaves are preparing for autumn, But it’s still only you I see. And winter will gladly come, We will be in school all day long, I will spend the hours dreaming Writing and singing your song. Remember when you stopped, So suddenly where we were, You kissed me, I smiled, I had a disease and you’re my cure, Thank you, Beau.
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Aug 10, 2013
Aug 10, 2013 at 12:01 AM UTC
Peaches
I loved you so My darling beau And I thought you loved me too Until you stopped And then I was dropped On the floor with memories and tears I adored you so much But my grip you un-clutched And entwined your hand with someone new Now time has passed Though my heart still is gashed I finally feel hope again Because though you hurt me I finally feel free Because I survived loving you.
0
Mar 10, 2015
Mar 10, 2015 at 12:29 AM UTC
Survival
Puisque de Sisteron à Nantes, Au cabaret, tout français chante, Puisque je suis ton échanson, Je veux, ô Française charmante, Te fredonner une chanson ; Une chanson de ma manière, Pour toi d'abord, et mes amis, En buvant gaiement dans mon verre À la santé de ton pays. Amis, buvons à la Fortune De la France, Mère commune, Entre Shakespeare et Murillo : On y voit la blonde et la brune, On y boit la bière... et non l'eau. Doux pays, le plus doux du monde, Entre Washington... et Chauvin, Tu baises la brune et la blonde, Tu fais de la bière et du vin. Ton cœur est franc, ton âme est fière ; Les soldats de la Terre entière T'attaqueront toujours en vain. Tu baises la blonde et la bière Comme on boit la brune et le vin. La brune a le con de la lune, La blonde a les poils... du mâtin... Garde bien ta bière et ta brune, Garde bien ta blonde et ton vin ! On tire la bière de l'orge, La baïonnette de la forge, Avec la vigne on fait du vin. Ta blonde a deux fleurs sur la gorge, Ta brune a deux grains de raisin. L'une accroche sa jupe aux branches, L'autre sourit sous les houblons : Garde bien leurs garces de hanches, Garde bien leurs bougres de cons. Pays vaillant comme un archange, Pays plus *** que la vendange Et que l'étoile du matin, Ta blonde est une douce orange, Mais ta brune ah !... sacré mâtin ! Ta brune a la griffe profonde ; Ta rousse a le teint du jasmin ; Garde-les bien ! Garde ta blonde Garde-la, le sabre à la main. Que tes canons n'aient pas de rouilles, Que tes fileuses de quenouilles Puissent en paix rire et dormir, Et se repose sur tes couilles Du présent et de l'avenir. C'est sur elles que tu travailles Sous les toisons d'ombre ou d'or fin : Garde-les des regards canailles, Garde-les du coup d'œil hautain ! Pays galant, la langue est claire Comme le soleil dans ton verre, Plus que le grec et le latin ; Autant que ta blonde et ta bière Garde-la bien, comme ton vin. Pays plus beau que le Soleil, Lune, Étoile, aube, aurore et matins. Aime bien ta blonde et ta brune, Et fais-leur... beaucoup de catins !
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3k
Chanson
Puisque de Sisteron à Nantes, Au cabaret, tout français chante, Puisque je suis ton échanson, Je veux, ô Française charmante, Te fredonner une chanson ; Une chanson de ma manière, Pour toi d'abord, et mes amis, En buvant gaiement dans mon verre À la santé de ton pays. Amis, buvons à la Fortune De la France, Mère commune, Entre Shakespeare et Murillo : On y voit la blonde et la brune, On y boit la bière... et non l'eau. Doux pays, le plus doux du monde, Entre Washington... et Chauvin, Tu baises la brune et la blonde, Tu fais de la bière et du vin. Ton cœur est franc, ton âme est fière ; Les soldats de la Terre entière T'attaqueront toujours en vain. Tu baises la blonde et la bière Comme on boit la brune et le vin. La brune a le con de la lune, La blonde a les poils... du mâtin... Garde bien ta bière et ta brune, Garde bien ta blonde et ton vin ! On tire la bière de l'orge, La baïonnette de la forge, Avec la vigne on fait du vin. Ta blonde a deux fleurs sur la gorge, Ta brune a deux grains de raisin. L'une accroche sa jupe aux branches, L'autre sourit sous les houblons : Garde bien leurs garces de hanches, Garde bien leurs bougres de cons. Pays vaillant comme un archange, Pays plus *** que la vendange Et que l'étoile du matin, Ta blonde est une douce orange, Mais ta brune ah !... sacré mâtin ! Ta brune a la griffe profonde ; Ta rousse a le teint du jasmin ; Garde-les bien ! Garde ta blonde Garde-la, le sabre à la main. Que tes canons n'aient pas de rouilles, Que tes fileuses de quenouilles Puissent en paix rire et dormir, Et se repose sur tes couilles Du présent et de l'avenir. C'est sur elles que tu travailles Sous les toisons d'ombre ou d'or fin : Garde-les des regards canailles, Garde-les du coup d'œil hautain ! Pays galant, la langue est claire Comme le soleil dans ton verre, Plus que le grec et le latin ; Autant que ta blonde et ta bière Garde-la bien, comme ton vin. Pays plus beau que le Soleil, Lune, Étoile, aube, aurore et matins. Aime bien ta blonde et ta brune, Et fais-leur... beaucoup de catins !
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63
Phrase Courte d'amour Si tu veux une fleur il faudra la cueillir mais si tu veux mon cœur il faudra me séduire. Phrase Courte d'amour Je suis un arbre, mes fleurs c'est toi. Je suis un ciel, mes étoiles c'est toi. Je suis une rivière, mon bateau c'est toi. Je suis un corps mon cœur c'est toi. Avec une larme d'émotion merci de tout cœur. Je me sens la plus heureuse sur terre grâce à toi mon cher je t'aime. Phrase Courte d'amour Toi qui illumines ma vie et m'inspires la joie. Tu habites mes nuits, tu habites mes jours, non ça ne change pas et tant mieux pour moi. Phrase Courte d'amour Tu te souviens pourquoi on est tombés amoureux? Tu te souviens pourquoi c'était si fort entre nous? Parce que j'étais capable de voir en toi des choses que les autres ignoraient. Et c'était la même chose pour toi mon amour. Phrase Courte d'amour **** de vous je vois flou et j'ai mal partout car je ne pense qu'à vous, je sais que c'est fou, mais j'aime que vous. La lune est comme un aimant, elle attire les amants regarde la souvent, tu trouvera celui que tu attend la main il te prendra pour la vie il te chérira. Phrase Courte d'amour Phrase Courte d'amour Pour vivre cette vie j'ai besoin d'un battement de cœur, avoir un battement de cœur j'ai besoin d'un cœur, avoir un cœur J'ai besoin de bonheur et avoir le bonheur j'ai besoin de toi! Un baiser peut être une virgule, un point d'interrogation, ou un point d'exclamation. C'est une épellation de base que chaque femme devrait savoir. Phrase Courte d'amour Il ne faut jamais dire c'est trop **** puisqu'on peut toujours devenir ce que nous souhaitons être et aussi avoir ce que nous avons toujours désiré. Le soleil ne s'arrête jamais de briller tout comme mon cœur ne s'arrête jamais de t'aimer. Phrase Courte d'amour L'éternité c'est de passer qu'une seule seconde de ma vie sans toi, mais qu'importe cette seconde si à mon retour tu es toujours là. Aimer est un sentiment d'appartenance à une personne de confiance. Phrase Courte d'amour L'amour n'a pas besoin de carte, Phrase Courte d'amour car elle peut trouver son chemin les yeux bandés. Dans ce monde l'amour n'a pas de couleur,pourtant le tien a profondément détint sur mon corps. Phrase Courte d'amour Le cœur est comme une fleur quand elle manque d'eau elle meurt. L'amour que j'ai envers toi est incompréhensible aux yeux de tous ... Même de toi. Phrase Courte d'amour L'amour est un mot que j'écris pour qu'il soit encore plus beau. Phrase Courte d'amour L'amour se vit dans la richesse comme dans la détresse, dans la pauvreté ou la beauté. Phrase Courte d'amour L'amour commence par donner de l'importance et finit par l'ignorance. Les plus belles choses dans la vie ne peuvent pas être vu, ni touchés, mais se font sentir que par cœur. Phrase Courte d'amour Qu'importe un océan ou un désert, l'amour n'a pas de frontières. Il Parait que quand on aime, on ne compte pas, mais moi je compte chaque secondes passée sans toi. Phrase Courte d'amour Toi mon cœur, mon amour, ma joie, je te dis ces quelques mots en pensent à toi, je t'aime et je ne peux pas vivre sans toi, à chaque moment, à chaque instant, je pense à toi une minute sans toi et tu me manques déjà, alors toi mon cœur, accepte moi, prends moi dans tes bras, embrasse-moi une dernière fois. Poeme courte d'amour
0
Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 6:28 PM UTC
Phrase Courte d'amour
Phrase Courte d'amour Si tu veux une fleur il faudra la cueillir mais si tu veux mon cœur il faudra me séduire. Phrase Courte d'amour Je suis un arbre, mes fleurs c'est toi. Je suis un ciel, mes étoiles c'est toi. Je suis une rivière, mon bateau c'est toi. Je suis un corps mon cœur c'est toi. Avec une larme d'émotion merci de tout cœur. Je me sens la plus heureuse sur terre grâce à toi mon cher je t'aime. Phrase Courte d'amour Toi qui illumines ma vie et m'inspires la joie. Tu habites mes nuits, tu habites mes jours, non ça ne change pas et tant mieux pour moi. Phrase Courte d'amour Tu te souviens pourquoi on est tombés amoureux? Tu te souviens pourquoi c'était si fort entre nous? Parce que j'étais capable de voir en toi des choses que les autres ignoraient. Et c'était la même chose pour toi mon amour. Phrase Courte d'amour **** de vous je vois flou et j'ai mal partout car je ne pense qu'à vous, je sais que c'est fou, mais j'aime que vous. La lune est comme un aimant, elle attire les amants regarde la souvent, tu trouvera celui que tu attend la main il te prendra pour la vie il te chérira. Phrase Courte d'amour Phrase Courte d'amour Pour vivre cette vie j'ai besoin d'un battement de cœur, avoir un battement de cœur j'ai besoin d'un cœur, avoir un cœur J'ai besoin de bonheur et avoir le bonheur j'ai besoin de toi! Un baiser peut être une virgule, un point d'interrogation, ou un point d'exclamation. C'est une épellation de base que chaque femme devrait savoir. Phrase Courte d'amour Il ne faut jamais dire c'est trop **** puisqu'on peut toujours devenir ce que nous souhaitons être et aussi avoir ce que nous avons toujours désiré. Le soleil ne s'arrête jamais de briller tout comme mon cœur ne s'arrête jamais de t'aimer. Phrase Courte d'amour L'éternité c'est de passer qu'une seule seconde de ma vie sans toi, mais qu'importe cette seconde si à mon retour tu es toujours là. Aimer est un sentiment d'appartenance à une personne de confiance. Phrase Courte d'amour L'amour n'a pas besoin de carte, Phrase Courte d'amour car elle peut trouver son chemin les yeux bandés. Dans ce monde l'amour n'a pas de couleur,pourtant le tien a profondément détint sur mon corps. Phrase Courte d'amour Le cœur est comme une fleur quand elle manque d'eau elle meurt. L'amour que j'ai envers toi est incompréhensible aux yeux de tous ... Même de toi. Phrase Courte d'amour L'amour est un mot que j'écris pour qu'il soit encore plus beau. Phrase Courte d'amour L'amour se vit dans la richesse comme dans la détresse, dans la pauvreté ou la beauté. Phrase Courte d'amour L'amour commence par donner de l'importance et finit par l'ignorance. Les plus belles choses dans la vie ne peuvent pas être vu, ni touchés, mais se font sentir que par cœur. Phrase Courte d'amour Qu'importe un océan ou un désert, l'amour n'a pas de frontières. Il Parait que quand on aime, on ne compte pas, mais moi je compte chaque secondes passée sans toi. Phrase Courte d'amour Toi mon cœur, mon amour, ma joie, je te dis ces quelques mots en pensent à toi, je t'aime et je ne peux pas vivre sans toi, à chaque moment, à chaque instant, je pense à toi une minute sans toi et tu me manques déjà, alors toi mon cœur, accepte moi, prends moi dans tes bras, embrasse-moi une dernière fois. Poeme courte d'amour
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39
She had eyes like a crater, Innocent as any girl could be. I think she had some bruises when I met her, But it never seemed to deter me. I chased her like a dog chasing tails, Was only then I started to notice her ***** nails. And then those Yellow eyes, Blue and Yellow never look pretty to my mind. She belled me with croaky breathes of air, I rushed to her house shook and scared. She was slumped against a wall with the choker she used to wear, Strapped around her arm and specks of ***** in her hair. She's got track marks like a craters, Darkness lay dormant in her soul. A once natural and elegant Beau, Now alone in the world of ****** and Blow.
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Aug 20, 2018
Aug 20, 2018 at 2:17 PM UTC
Craters
Leaving the room, the subtle scent only for those, daily encounters it is of night, meeting a lover, darkness perfume weighs heavy, in the air clinging to her, silk skin, accustomed, clutched, pinched pencil shape skirt, ribbon drawing the inches, sewn bustier, each stitch climbing gentle curves, lace ornamenting her ******* a drop gold pendant, swirls teetering, cobbled streets Blahnik, green Ossie shoes their final destination, grand floors Regent home, four story, Chelsea, London her beau Fabiano, open arms champagne in hand. © Sia Jane
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Jan 25, 2014
Jan 25, 2014 at 6:03 PM UTC
Perfume
--I. M. Edward John Henley (1861-1898) Where are the passions they essayed, And where the tears they made to flow? Where the wild humours they portrayed For laughing worlds to see and know? Othello's wrath and Juliet's woe? Sir Peter's whims and Timon's gall? And Millamant and Romeo? Into the night go one and all. Where are the braveries, fresh or frayed? The plumes, the armours--friend and foe? The cloth of gold, the rare brocade, The mantles glittering to and fro? The pomp, the pride, the royal show? The cries of war and festival? The youth, the grace, the charm, the glow? Into the night go one and all. The curtain falls, the play is played: The Beggar packs beside the Beau; The Monarch troops, and troops the Maid; The Thunder huddles with the Snow. Where are the revellers high and low? The clashing swords? The lover's call? The dancers gleaming row on row? Into the night go one and all. Envoy Prince, in one common overthrow The Hero tumbles with the Thrall: As dust that drives, as straws that blow, Into the night go one and all.
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2.6k
Ballade Of Dead Actors
i. Alow downward Reyna, humanity hunger's and kill's, Red liquid they do spill, despoiling, toiling, taking Lucifer's fill; ii. We canst only watcheth queen, as their working's and dream's, Get untied by the string's, of the fine unseen line, of the principalities and power's. iii. Henceforth the hour's, shalt be as fading flower's, they shalt seeith their government's and darkened power's; falleth as the star's, men who knoweth none boundaries, God shalt rattle the mountain's and deep, as a harlot to her patron. Though the patron's sleep. iv. We shalt endureth this paining moment amour', the cosmic chronograph is opening door's; erelong love, erelong amour', we shalt sit at a feasting table, wherein the beau monde that hast Satan's barcoded label, shalt not perch. The flame shalt quench it's thirst, as recreation below us takes it's course. For ourn creator spoke this Jane, in the beginning. The world's lost it's way, it needeth cleansing from the sinning. As we shalt be restored by reconnecting on higher planes. To be reborn, in the spirit again. ©Brandon Nagley ©Lonesome poet's poetry ©Earl Jane Nagley ( Filipino rose) dedicated
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Jan 26, 2016
Jan 26, 2016 at 7:18 PM UTC
Ta apokalyptíria (The unveiling) greek tongue
will the French please stop stealing words from Pretty Olde English? we can’t but fix a secret meeting and choose a rendezvous and we discover the French have already stolen every secret including the word rendezvous! Oh, the French, when will they stop this pilfering of English vocabulary? I buy some trinkets and stuff for my beau and they tell me my beau has been taken by the French – and to add insult to injury (those thieves!) they’ve stolen all the stuff too! Oh, there’s no stopping the French. I can’t even sit to dine and say “Bon appetit!” and they steal my words, and they run off with the dessert… and would you believe it? those cunning French, they even steal the restaurant and its décor! Oh, the evil French, will they never stop this? - stealing from fecund English, so simple and innocent… You see, even the Great Poet John Keats he starts his poem in English La Belle Dame sans Merci and no sooner had he written the title, the French stole the very words! - and so ****** off was our Romantic John Keats, he wrote the poem itself in what he hoped could never be Frenched! Ah, the French…would you please stealing words from our Fair Damsel English…. And the Chindians too! Chindians? you know, the Chinese and the Indians together! (Yes, it’s a new word, shows how inventive English is.) Well, the Chinese have done it with a smile and a kowtow! – there you go, while you bow or cringe, the Chinese steal the kowtow; and before our very own eyes today even in our modern world the Chinese steal words like Dao, Zen, taofu, chi, and feng shui; and the Indians, not to be beaten, and perhaps with a vengeance to deal a fatal blow to the Raj, they steal words like: nirvana, pundits, yoga, juggernaut, pepper and curry And of course there are many more tribes and nations in this merry global **** of Gloriana English and there’s just nothing Britannia can do about it! Oh, what’s the world coming to when our Plain Jane English is molested like this; and so I do my part the Dark Knight coming to her rescue - perhaps this earnest appeal in verse will touch the hearts of the beasts and dragons and they’ll keep their claws away from our Fair Helpless Dame English
0
Sep 21, 2010
Sep 21, 2010 at 11:06 PM UTC
stealing from English
will the French please stop stealing words from Pretty Olde English? we can’t but fix a secret meeting and choose a rendezvous and we discover the French have already stolen every secret including the word rendezvous! Oh, the French, when will they stop this pilfering of English vocabulary? I buy some trinkets and stuff for my beau and they tell me my beau has been taken by the French – and to add insult to injury (those thieves!) they’ve stolen all the stuff too! Oh, there’s no stopping the French. I can’t even sit to dine and say “Bon appetit!” and they steal my words, and they run off with the dessert… and would you believe it? those cunning French, they even steal the restaurant and its décor! Oh, the evil French, will they never stop this? - stealing from fecund English, so simple and innocent… You see, even the Great Poet John Keats he starts his poem in English La Belle Dame sans Merci and no sooner had he written the title, the French stole the very words! - and so ****** off was our Romantic John Keats, he wrote the poem itself in what he hoped could never be Frenched! Ah, the French…would you please stealing words from our Fair Damsel English…. And the Chindians too! Chindians? you know, the Chinese and the Indians together! (Yes, it’s a new word, shows how inventive English is.) Well, the Chinese have done it with a smile and a kowtow! – there you go, while you bow or cringe, the Chinese steal the kowtow; and before our very own eyes today even in our modern world the Chinese steal words like Dao, Zen, taofu, chi, and feng shui; and the Indians, not to be beaten, and perhaps with a vengeance to deal a fatal blow to the Raj, they steal words like: nirvana, pundits, yoga, juggernaut, pepper and curry And of course there are many more tribes and nations in this merry global **** of Gloriana English and there’s just nothing Britannia can do about it! Oh, what’s the world coming to when our Plain Jane English is molested like this; and so I do my part the Dark Knight coming to her rescue - perhaps this earnest appeal in verse will touch the hearts of the beasts and dragons and they’ll keep their claws away from our Fair Helpless Dame English
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She's wearing rain, and Fragrance of petrichor; The best beau for her, Is life.
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Aug 14, 2020
Aug 14, 2020 at 10:50 AM UTC
Nature's Garb
Have I got a story for you? Let me tell you about this pursue Ms. Piggy and ****** hooked up They went out on a date However the Chef suggested that Ms. Piggy should be on a plate ****** explained to the Chef Ms. Piggy was his date Ms. Piggy responded to the Chef, “Are you sure you can relate as I am Ms. Piggy and you are not Pretty Ricky” The Chef then dashed away Ms. Piggy and ****** continued on having their togetherness in say Ms. Piggy wanted a little wine with her dine But ****** had something else in mine Well Ms. Piggy got a little tipsy She was acting more like the Queen of the Gypsies Ms. Piggy started drinking out of her shoe ****** felt like Ms. Piggy was turning him into stew The music was playing and Ms. Piggy demanded a dance ****** wanted to hook up in a romance Ms. Piggy was so drunk Her mind must was on stomp Later Ms. Piggy called ****** a chump That is when the fight broke out Ms. Piggy and ****** began to shout Dancing became in your face Ms. Piggy’s anger I can’t erase The whole evening became a date from hell in the trace Ms. Piggy told ****** she was an important lady ****** shouted, “Only maybe baby” Ms. Piggy told ****** good-bye ****** went his way in comply.
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Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 6:53 PM UTC
MS. PIGGY AND BEAU ****** A COUPLE OF WONDER