"blythe" poems
Duncan Gray cam here to woo,
Ha, ha, the wooing o’t,
On blythe Yule Night when we were fu’,
Ha, ha, the wooing o’t,
Maggie coost her head fu’ high,
Looked asklent and unco skeigh,
Gart poor Duncan stand abeigh;
Ha, ha, the wooing o’t.
Duncan fleeched, and Duncan prayed;
Ha, ha, the wooing o’t,
Meg was deaf as Ailsa Craig;
Ha, ha, the wooing o’t,
Duncan sighed baith out and in,
Grat his een baith bleer’t and blin’,
Spak o’ lowpin ower a linn;
Ha, ha, the wooing o’t.
Time and Chance are but a tide,
Ha, ha, the wooing o’t,
Slighted love is sair to bide,
Ha, ha, the wooing o’t,
Shall I, like a fool, quoth he,
For a haughty hizzie dee?
She may *** to -France for me!
Ha, ha, the wooing o’t.
How it comes let Doctors tell,
Ha, ha, the wooing o’t,
Meg grew sick as he grew hale,
Ha, ha, the wooing o’t,
Something in her ***** wrings,
For relief a sigh she brings;
And O her een, they spak sic things!
Ha, ha, the wooing o’t.
Duncan was a lad o’ grace,
Ha, ha, the wooing o’t,
Maggie’s was a piteous case,
Ha, ha, the wooing o’t,
Duncan could na be her death,
Swelling Pity smoored his Wrath;
Now they’re crouse and canty baith,
Ha, ha, the wooing o’t.
4.1k
**With tears in my eyes,
I will smile,**
With the shadows perished by,
I will be the daylight,
With those envisaged grievances,
I will emanate fluorescence,
**With sadness deep inside,
I will rejoice,**
With the appalling bruises on my skin,
I will still be intact,
**With shattered hope,
I will remain steadfast,**
With fulminations raining aside,
I will stay afloat,
With vehement reminiscences passed,
I will protect and cherish,
With love gone awry,
I will gather the traces.
Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 4:11 AM UTC
Once I lov'd a bonie lass,
Ay, and I love her still;
And whilst that virtue warms my breast,
I'll love my handsome Nell.
As bonie lasses I hae seen,
And mony full as braw;
But, for a modest gracefu' mein,
The like I never saw.
A bonie lass, I will confess,
Is pleasant to the e'e;
But, without some better qualities,
She's no a lass for me.
But Nelly's looks are blythe and sweet,
And what is best of a',
Her reputation is complete,
And fair without a flaw.
She dresses aye sae clean and neat,
Both decent and genteel;
And then there's something in her gait
Gars ony dress look weel.
A gaudy dress and gentle air
May slightly touch the heart;
But it's innocence and modesty
That polishes the dart.
'Tis this in Nelly pleases me,
'Tis this enchants my soul;
For absolutely in my breast
She reigns without control.
Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 4:58 AM UTC
Tanagra! think not I forget
Thy beautifully-storey'd streets;
Be sure my memory bathes yet
In clear Thermodon, and yet greets
The blythe and liberal shepherd boy,
Whose sunny ***** swells with joy
When we accept his matted rushes
Upheaved with sylvan fruit; away he bounds, and blushes.
I promise to bring back with me
What thou with transport wilt receive,
The only proper gift for thee,
Of which no mortal shall bereave
In later times thy mouldering walls,
Until the last old turret falls;
A crown, a crown from Athens won!
A crown no god can wear, beside Latona's son.
There may be cities who refuse
To their own child the honours due,
And look ungently on the Muse;
But ever shall those cities rue
The dry, unyielding, niggard breast,
Offering no nourishment, no rest,
To that young head which soon shall rise
Disdainfully, in might and glory, to the skies.
Sweetly where cavern'd Dirce flows
Do white-arm'd maidens chaunt my lay,
Flapping the while with laurel-rose
The honey-gathering tribes away;
And sweetly, sweetly, Attick tongues
Lisp your Corinna's early songs;
To her with feet more graceful come
The verses that have dwelt in kindred ******* at home.
O let thy children lean aslant
Against the tender mother's knee,
And gaze into her face, and want
To know what magic there can be
In words that urge some eyes to dance,
While others as in holy trance
Look up to heaven; be such my praise!
Why linger? I must haste, or lose the Delphick bays.
1.8k
Oh,' be young or old, courageous or wise,
Whatever you do, whoever you are,
Beware of those souls whose words are the guise
Hiding a past marked with an ugly scar.
Their face may be benign hiding malus
With an altruistic front for a show;
Fragrance of a rose hides a soul callus
Envious heart wanting to take your glow.
Yet, your love and honesty guides your fate
No matter what others would say and do,
Love's the beacon to steer away from hate
Enjoy life and show the world the real you.
When deceptive people spin their charmed lies
Let not their words fool you, learn to be wise.
Feb 2, 2015
Feb 2, 2015 at 8:52 AM UTC
"It was only a kiss" you'd said
to me, that ended
our wedded bliss.
I caught you and her
of all places, in
my kitchen.
New year's party for the neighbours
right next to the drainer
You, and her from number five.
Warned about her the day we arrived.
Gossip I thought
Jealousy I thought
Vicious viperous women
being vindictive
I thought.
Shows you what thought does
Did you like number five's thighs?
Her sighs?
Did you even remember your wife?
Whilst being depraved, full of vice
lies and cries of lust ?
I expect not, your head
was still full of her lips
Or is it her lips that are still full?
Relationships are give and take
You took too much.
I hate goodbyes.
You've been Blythe about
Your demise with
Number five, and her thighs.
So, to cut to the chase
We cannot revive nor
survive. Your kiss can consider me the ex.
Oh, and by the way
let's just say that the
slice I made today will make no 5
Stay permanently away.
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 4:38 PM UTC
All I need is love
But it is the true one that want to have
Let me feel thy sweetness
Make my heart be filled with happiness.
Conversing emotion
Keeping love in motion;
Vibrant hearts
Nothing hurts;
Clouds of love as huts
Without you, I'm going nuts.
If by any chance
To the rhythm of my heart, you cannot dance,
Please be true to me
And don't ever fool me,
Don't give my heart false hope
Give me some time to mope;
A piercing pain is what I'll feel
Hoping for the time when I will heal.
Feb 19, 2015
Feb 19, 2015 at 2:41 AM UTC
Why is it hard to ignore?
Your eyes began to sweat
With the realization of yore-
Felt like an impending death.
Wounded deep within
Marked with scars from the past;
Suffocated by the pain inside
Feeling shattered and broken.
Reminiscing the former times
Just provides hindrance
Mistakes after mistakes
Comprehending thy ignorance.
Adding more woe
To thy anguished life;
Instead of finding a bliss
To solace thy grieving soul.
Found thyself drowning
In the depth of the abyss
Gasping for hope and light
From this wretchedness.
Jul 12, 2015
Jul 12, 2015 at 1:08 AM UTC
There was an old person of Blythe,
Who cut up his meat with a saythe;
When they said, 'Well! I never!'--
he cried, 'Scythes for ever!'
That lively old person of Blythe.
1.1k
When will it stop?
The constant, confusing whiplash
Of hatred
Of acceptance
Of compelled shoving fingers down your throat
Of etching paintings into your skin, with a pointed brush
If only to release
When will it stop?
The hypocrisy of trying to help someone
When you can barely help yourself
Sitting in front of a screen, telling them it'll all be fine
But you have a blade in your hands
And a finger in your throat
When will it stop?
The vicissitude of everyday
Blythe simplicity on one
Slowly killing yourself the next
The good days, I'm able to have a painful relationship with food
Thinking, but not acting
Even if for an hour
For that hour, I am whole and I am free
But the bad days, silent ruminations engulf my head
Of painting scarlet
And expelling
When will it stop?
The compulsions taking over me
Oct 31, 2024
Oct 31, 2024 at 4:07 PM UTC
How do i describe Blythe?
She’s very smart yet very humble.
She’s very soft spoken
But knows how to have a good time,
She never fails to make you feel special
And remind you why you need friends like her.
She’s a strong woman with a heart of gold.
Jan 20, 2014
Jan 20, 2014 at 6:01 PM UTC
I am an umbrella.
The cold rain has soaked my hair and
I can hear thunder in the distance.
I see the lightening strike the maple
Trees of Connecticut and
I can taste the garlic from my lunch,
Still on my tongue,
Three hours later.
My brain is fuzzing. The smell
Of gasoline permeates my nostrils
Like fresh baked cookies.
And I remember.
The car flipping, taillights over headlights.
Me in the front seat. We landed
In the ravine and sunk to the bottom
And here I am.
I walk across the busy highway
And reach the divider where
I find them.
I reach for the flowers and
They smell like rainbows.
Blythe, a moldy card reads,
Take care in the afterlife.
I place another next to it
From me that reads,
You will be sorely missed
Hasta luego.
I walk back across the highway
Headlights staring into my eyes
And open the front door of my car
To drive away. Moving on
Makes the pain go away and
If you forget, no one remembers
But I will until you come home.
Mar 5, 2010
Mar 5, 2010 at 6:03 PM UTC
Of long streets marked by dim lights.
Concrete steps that ran the side,
of your leathern'd shoes worn out,
by the myriad looks that browsed,
through your soul and left you untouched.
Solemn, You, sideways the smile.
Poet Prophet of the Night.
Only you could fathom All:
Broken windows of the Soul;
Nightless smiles, and daytime Owls
Who, in smooth cadence walked,
stepping into voids of
Coin,
selling their skin;
conjuring
The Harlem Dark,
Of their opaque,
blythe...
Lost Dream.
J. Eduardo Ramos©
Jul 3, 2015
Jul 3, 2015 at 2:54 AM UTC
Blessed*
Beyond words
Both in life
But also ironically in
Death
Happy*
Because she was there
By my house
Blindly smiling
Beautiful
Sad*
Bright in their eyes
Black in heart
Biting Bickering
Bugs
Blythe*
Beyond words
Barely in distress
Boldly chasing away blackness
You
And
me
always
Apr 9, 2017
Apr 9, 2017 at 4:10 PM UTC
For Blythe
My friend, where did you go in such a hurry?
I was stood at the bar, reciting my order
as a preparatory mantra for an interaction
that was always difficult for the both of us.
Everyone is dropping like mayflies here.
A silent dive out of the hologram
and towards more indelible climbs.
I know you lived with an abusive secret;
poorly kept, yet rarely addressed in
your tectonic silences. Irretrievable fractures
that birthed the fault lines in your face.
Fate was donated into your hands.
Another kind soul torturing itself
for merely being human.
My friend, please tell me where to go.
Tell me, how soon will I follow?
Tears have collected in oceans for you.
As you knew that they would.
But even that could not stop you
once love had lost its flavour.
Oct 10, 2014
Oct 10, 2014 at 6:27 PM UTC
I think about you.
In a public suit, tight smile, destitute,
running out of steam in your mid-twenties.
We suffer for you, we do.
We do.
You died twice, you, once as
ruined core, ants scheming, plundered sugar.
The second, a rainbow funeral.
You were early to the party for once,
but as usual, you refused to speak.
Clouds turn pink in January, the second frost
over her cardboard grave, a birth of worms.
I will see more winters than you. You who
found *** in a private joke, the Great Electron
in all of your Buddhist theories
and those endless streams of smoke.
I mourn a kitten. The slowing stream of green tea,
the poison in the air; the malignant children
of consumerism. I do not **** for anaesthesia,
will not be killed for a chance at peace.
You, who comes to mind at each muted note,
each muffled string of potential sound.
Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 11:27 AM UTC
Oh Blythe, you were always in the wrong,
you lived your life as a sad, sad song.
They say addiction starts and always ends in pain,
great Sisyphus, heaving the boulder again.
We're hooked on all our broken dreams,
suspicious of love like it's a pyramid scheme.
Oh Blythe, the world couldn't compete with your mind,
I talked to you, but it was the blind leading the blind.
When you took your life I had almost took mine,
feeling the pain, even once I've left it behind.
They found you in a sorry, sorry state,
oh, I know how it feels to always be afraid.
Oh Blythe, I know I shouldn't call you my friend,
and I can't pretend to know what drove you round the bend,
I won't preach colour into your world of grey,
and I can't say that "you just have to be brave"
but we're more than these words,
more than a pattern of breath.
You were bursting with life
despite your eventual death.
Oh, where did you go,
my ghost in the snow?
Oh, where did you go,
my dear ghost in the snow.
I've been looking for a place where I can lay in the rain,
it'll be a while, my friend, before I see you once again,
I hope I don't see your face again.
Wherever you are, I hope you don't have to pretend.
Where did you go,
where did you go,
my ghost in the snow.
Jan 24, 2015
Jan 24, 2015 at 9:42 PM UTC
Flaming love(With Blythe)
All I need is love
But it is the true one that want to have
Let me feel thy sweetness
Make my heart be filled with happiness.
Conversing emotion
Keeping love in motion;
Vibrant hearts
Nothing hurts;
Clouds of love as huts
Without you, I'm going nuts.
If by any chance
To the rhythm of my heart, you cannot dance,
Please be true to me
And don't ever fool me,
Don't give my heart false hope
Give me some time to mope;
A piercing pain is what I'll feel
Hoping for the time when I will heal.
This is a unified work of two
Kirui and Blythe.
#blythe
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Mar 28, 2016
Mar 28, 2016 at 3:07 AM UTC
A luminous forest, a weeping evergreen, a tall waterfall that the breeze bounds o'er, a spring of dreams that doubles back and cycles - sky in endlessly they do : the wavelet course of the orbs or a calm stream, tearful eyes overflowing with heraldic thoughts thru the night, a singular occupancy in a surge or flood, crest followed by crest, ' till they disguise all, a reign of emerald hue that has no decay, like the flapping wings in the unfolding sky. A gigantic mountain standing tall and strong, not showing how lonely it is to be alone. A calming sound of the river flowing, swiftly the current goes like the days passing by quickly along with each memory. A passage thru the valleys of our future days, and the sunless elegance of such sorrow takes this wealthiest of natures and turns it to industry, and the eventual joys within loving arms that seek out company and some necessary duty in vain at this time, for the day time moments are chipped away by other moments, for all this, I finally admit that I need your happiness to bring me back from this wasting away, because I desire the multiform pleasures that you could bring to me - and I to you.
Jan 16, 2015
Jan 16, 2015 at 8:54 AM UTC
A/N: This poem probably makes no sense but after listening to a few Blythe Baird poems I felt inspired to write something like this.
The life of a woman can be challenging
The life of a woman can be an uphill battle that sometimes we just do not want to fight
Women can be born in hospitals
They can also be born trapped in masculine jail cells
Some people say that sexism is dead
But then they remind us to always carry pepper spray in the same breath
And I begin to wonder if being a woman is a curse or a blessing
Surely things had to improve by now
We are not in the twenties after all
But dread settles in the pit of my stomach like stones at the bottom of a river
When I remember reading that we had to invent nail polish that changed color in drugged drinks
Lipstick shaped mace
Develop apps to walk us home
And underwear designed to prevent assault
I wish I could go back
Back to a time before womanhood hit me like a truck
Back to a time before *******
And periods
Before I knew about all the sharp corners of the world
I often think of if I want to change the world
I do
And I do not
Somedays I want to write acceptance into existence
Some days I just want to hide from the weight of responsibility
Crushing me like a ton of bricks
I shudder as I remember the nights a man twisted my will by calling me, baby
Talking me out of conversations I knew I should have brought up sooner
I want people to see women as people
Most importantly men
We are not your playthings
We are not objects you can twist and mold to your desires
We are not a piece of candy for your eyes
I want everyone to realize these things
But I will try and coat my words in sugar
I will try to make these words easy to hear
Easy to read
I will try and soften the impact of reality
I will try and make these words
This poem easy to swallow
Like a microscopic pill
I will try and make reading this easier than it is for us women to live
Dec 10, 2019
Dec 10, 2019 at 8:19 PM UTC
Rest in peace you gentle soul
your eyes which saw only truth
gave us the spirit of those who worked the land
a portrait penned with honest colour
painted as it was
and not how we would have it be
Jan 17, 2023
Jan 17, 2023 at 9:49 AM UTC
There once was a fellow from Blythe
In fear of loosing his life.
He ended his dread
Of winding up dead
When he cut off his head with a knife!
Nov 26, 2019
Nov 26, 2019 at 6:20 PM UTC