"bounden" poems - Hello Poetry

WRITTEN FOR HIS MOTHER Dame du ciel, regents terrienne, Emperiere des infemaux palus.... Lady of Heaven and earth, and therewithal Crowned Empress of the nether clefts of Hell,— I, thy poor Christian, on thy name do call, Commending me to thee, with thee to dwell, Albeit in nought I be commendable. But all mine undeserving may not mar Such mercies as thy sovereign mercies are; Without the which (as true words testify) No soul can reach thy Heaven so fair and far. Even in this faith I choose to live and die. Unto thy Son say thou that I am His, And to me graceless make Him gracious. Said Mary of Egypt lacked not of that bliss, Nor yet the sorrowful clerk Theopbilus, Whose bitter sins were set aside even thus Though to the Fiend his bounden service was. Oh help me, lest in vain for me should pass (Sweet ****** that shalt have no loss thereby!) The blessed Host and sacring of the Mass Even in this faith I choose to live and die. A pitiful poor woman, shrunk and old, I am, and nothing learn'd in letter-lore. Within my parish-cloister I behold A painted Heaven where harps and lutes adore, And eke an Hell whose ****** folk seethe full sore: One bringeth fear, the other joy to me. That joy, great Goddess, make thou mine to be,— Thou of whom all must ask it even as I; And that which faith desires, that let it see. For in this faith I choose to live and die. O excellent ****** Princess! thou didst bear King Jesus, the most excellent comforter, Who even of this our weakness craved a share And for our sake stooped to us from on high, Offering to death His young life sweet and fair. Such as He is, Our Lord, I Him declare, And in this faith I choose to live and die. Dante Gabriel Rossetti, trans.

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3.1k

Francois Villon

Ballade To Our Lady

WRITTEN FOR HIS MOTHER Dame du ciel, regents terrienne, Emperiere des infemaux palus.... Lady of Heaven and earth, and therewithal Crowned Empress of the nether clefts of Hell,— I, thy poor Christian, on thy name do call, Commending me to thee, with thee to dwell, Albeit in nought I be commendable. But all mine undeserving may not mar Such mercies as thy sovereign mercies are; Without the which (as true words testify) No soul can reach thy Heaven so fair and far. Even in this faith I choose to live and die. Unto thy Son say thou that I am His, And to me graceless make Him gracious. Said Mary of Egypt lacked not of that bliss, Nor yet the sorrowful clerk Theopbilus, Whose bitter sins were set aside even thus Though to the Fiend his bounden service was. Oh help me, lest in vain for me should pass (Sweet ****** that shalt have no loss thereby!) The blessed Host and sacring of the Mass Even in this faith I choose to live and die. A pitiful poor woman, shrunk and old, I am, and nothing learn'd in letter-lore. Within my parish-cloister I behold A painted Heaven where harps and lutes adore, And eke an Hell whose ****** folk seethe full sore: One bringeth fear, the other joy to me. That joy, great Goddess, make thou mine to be,— Thou of whom all must ask it even as I; And that which faith desires, that let it see. For in this faith I choose to live and die. O excellent ****** Princess! thou didst bear King Jesus, the most excellent comforter, Who even of this our weakness craved a share And for our sake stooped to us from on high, Offering to death His young life sweet and fair. Such as He is, Our Lord, I Him declare, And in this faith I choose to live and die. Dante Gabriel Rossetti, trans.

41

Everything has become so irrelevant. I'm searching for an explanation but it doesn't add up. Nothing does. I stay Comprehensive but nothing suffices. Its a case of reversionist logic. A impending cycle with no absolute meaning. Fog seems to cloud my judgement so my conscious doesn't comply. Loathed anti prescription swallowed daily, while the white walls and blue ocean make it's scenery. The voices try to compromise, but it's a debate that holds an never ending rebuttal. Always forced into the unknown. But a understanding of me, my voice, my demeanor, and my place in this bounden life circle is lost. So you must believe that no one will understand me. I consider my self a ancient relic. I'm one of a kind but not rare. Cause once someone sees something extraordinary over time, it looses it's taste and someone becomes tired of seeing the same thing over time.. logic at it's finest. We all soul search to fill life's embrace of these mixed emotions. To experience what keeps my sanity afloat. My vices keep me intent. In a way of keeping my head up and realize what power Im withholding that makes me immune to unknown circumstances. But the path to the void is too simple. My courage consumes and corrupts my will of giving up. But yet again, it all seems irrelevant. Maybe your point of view on these lines I speak is a clear one. But then again maybe manipulative resources blind you. Or do you see my point?

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Nov 1, 2015

Nov 1, 2015 at 5:23 AM UTC

Cold-Bones

Irrelevant Relic

Everything has become so irrelevant. I'm searching for an explanation but it doesn't add up. Nothing does. I stay Comprehensive but nothing suffices. Its a case of reversionist logic. A impending cycle with no absolute meaning. Fog seems to cloud my judgement so my conscious doesn't comply. Loathed anti prescription swallowed daily, while the white walls and blue ocean make it's scenery. The voices try to compromise, but it's a debate that holds an never ending rebuttal. Always forced into the unknown. But a understanding of me, my voice, my demeanor, and my place in this bounden life circle is lost. So you must believe that no one will understand me. I consider my self a ancient relic. I'm one of a kind but not rare. Cause once someone sees something extraordinary over time, it looses it's taste and someone becomes tired of seeing the same thing over time.. logic at it's finest. We all soul search to fill life's embrace of these mixed emotions. To experience what keeps my sanity afloat. My vices keep me intent. In a way of keeping my head up and realize what power Im withholding that makes me immune to unknown circumstances. But the path to the void is too simple. My courage consumes and corrupts my will of giving up. But yet again, it all seems irrelevant. Maybe your point of view on these lines I speak is a clear one. But then again maybe manipulative resources blind you. Or do you see my point?

20

Oh keeper of my soul Guardian of the sky Seep within my depths Deposit your tender heart For I will defend it with all that I am With the fight of a warrior, I will protect thee With the spirit of a mother, I will nurture And heal your scars beautiful My love, all of my love, I lay bare before you Ingest me, consume me Infuse me into your purest essence The fire of dragons lays dormant within Awakened with purpose alone Protecting fiercely the most delicate of hearts Mine is in your charge As yours is in mine Espoused and revered To the death Without fear We will vanquish the shadows of doubts Casting out with them The lies that would beseech us stay Timeless and eternal, Coterminous, harmonious One and the same are we Born united We are infinite, fated Bounden and bound One

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Feb 25, 2015

Feb 25, 2015 at 9:22 AM UTC

prttybrd

Amour Nonpareil

Oh keeper of my soul Guardian of the sky Seep within my depths Deposit your tender heart For I will defend it with all that I am With the fight of a warrior, I will protect thee With the spirit of a mother, I will nurture And heal your scars beautiful My love, all of my love, I lay bare before you Ingest me, consume me Infuse me into your purest essence The fire of dragons lays dormant within Awakened with purpose alone Protecting fiercely the most delicate of hearts Mine is in your charge As yours is in mine Espoused and revered To the death Without fear We will vanquish the shadows of doubts Casting out with them The lies that would beseech us stay Timeless and eternal, Coterminous, harmonious One and the same are we Born united We are infinite, fated Bounden and bound One

32

White collars meet soil Holy hangings, righteous men shake their heads Throw your glory before the swine And hold still your parasols, ladies Hold high your chins Keep bound any doubt in the depths of your dejection Lest ye be like Adam Y bounden Betraying That which is written most outright is the stone That only the condemnèd break *Change is a sin So take your pills and see to your woman, son And silence that serpent that seeks That seeks to remove the crown you wear That seeks to find peace in those arms* *The warm and thick arms of the ****** Collars of white Books of blue Robes of red Two thousand years of turmoil and discipline Brought you this? By the power of my hand--in pain you’ll repent By the power of their cloaks and their words My boy* Love is patient; love is kind *So do not insist in your own way To blacken your robe with pagan ways Is a disrespect to the starry crown Gather your pearls For myrrh is no longer abundant Turn to the sun, bow, and Tighten their chains* Give them their aid with the strength Papa taught you Slack is cowardice, doubt Rows chained up behind On my knees I pray for their salvation ?* I will pray salvation, truly From hypocrites From legislature From the smoke and the mirrors and the smiting “Justice” In the arms of your forbidden Light your candles and share your vows I’ll pretend while I can But don’t you keep your hearts To yourselves

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Feb 18, 2013

Feb 18, 2013 at 6:43 PM UTC

samy-ounon

As it is Written

White collars meet soil Holy hangings, righteous men shake their heads Throw your glory before the swine And hold still your parasols, ladies Hold high your chins Keep bound any doubt in the depths of your dejection Lest ye be like Adam Y bounden Betraying That which is written most outright is the stone That only the condemnèd break *Change is a sin So take your pills and see to your woman, son And silence that serpent that seeks That seeks to remove the crown you wear That seeks to find peace in those arms* *The warm and thick arms of the ****** Collars of white Books of blue Robes of red Two thousand years of turmoil and discipline Brought you this? By the power of my hand--in pain you’ll repent By the power of their cloaks and their words My boy* Love is patient; love is kind *So do not insist in your own way To blacken your robe with pagan ways Is a disrespect to the starry crown Gather your pearls For myrrh is no longer abundant Turn to the sun, bow, and Tighten their chains* Give them their aid with the strength Papa taught you Slack is cowardice, doubt Rows chained up behind On my knees I pray for their salvation ?* I will pray salvation, truly From hypocrites From legislature From the smoke and the mirrors and the smiting “Justice” In the arms of your forbidden Light your candles and share your vows I’ll pretend while I can But don’t you keep your hearts To yourselves

48

she’s one of those eyes who can see one’s true beauty she’s one of those smiles who can make your day fine she believed in me she built my own confidence she introduced me to the best of me she gave me faith as she danced she said, have courage she called me darling i finally got out of that cage because of her, i am here — flying i proved that she’s the true beauty for she sees the goodness of others she have a bounden duty it is to bring change in your life when you meet her

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Feb 20, 2018

Feb 20, 2018 at 10:29 AM UTC

dannie

true beauty

she’s one of those eyes who can see one’s true beauty she’s one of those smiles who can make your day fine she believed in me she built my own confidence she introduced me to the best of me she gave me faith as she danced she said, have courage she called me darling i finally got out of that cage because of her, i am here — flying i proved that she’s the true beauty for she sees the goodness of others she have a bounden duty it is to bring change in your life when you meet her

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***respect and honor charged with a heart not your own trust founds truest love*** ❤❤❤

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Feb 21, 2015

Feb 21, 2015 at 3:02 AM UTC

prttybrd

bounden, beholden, and obliged

***respect and honor charged with a heart not your own trust founds truest love*** ❤❤❤

4

I didn't know what to do with it, I guess I was just driving aimlessly; no signs, no lines, no lights to tell me when to stop. And when I finally broke down in everyone's way...you were there. You were the distraction I needed. I fell for an idea, a legend, a figment. I crashed down hard and didn't know right from left; yet left to my own devices, I could feel one aspect remained-the protection. Your words captivated me like the scent of an autumn breeze after a long hot summer, forming a protective shield around me, a thicket paragraphs deep. I fell for a distraction...you fell for a lost traveler. How can we distinguish one feeling from another when our very beings are tangled up in this mass of rhyme we have spewed forth? Silver words falling from bejeweled tongues clash together in a blend of titanic proportions, and we are one. All we need is closer, closer, and soon the joined words come from inseprable lips; did Shakespeare know? Had he the experience, the awe, the losses? How could he compare praying hands to bounden lips if he didn't? We are the new Shakespeare; we write our own story with our enjoined hands, entangled legs. Our fingers meshed together spell out what our tongues cannot. We write our own love story, forging through the trouble that is past and the fear that is to come. They say actions speak louder than words, that an image is worth ten thousand words. Well, whoever they were....they were right.

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Oct 24, 2016

Oct 24, 2016 at 12:10 PM UTC

xmxrgxncy

actions

I didn't know what to do with it, I guess I was just driving aimlessly; no signs, no lines, no lights to tell me when to stop. And when I finally broke down in everyone's way...you were there. You were the distraction I needed. I fell for an idea, a legend, a figment. I crashed down hard and didn't know right from left; yet left to my own devices, I could feel one aspect remained-the protection. Your words captivated me like the scent of an autumn breeze after a long hot summer, forming a protective shield around me, a thicket paragraphs deep. I fell for a distraction...you fell for a lost traveler. How can we distinguish one feeling from another when our very beings are tangled up in this mass of rhyme we have spewed forth? Silver words falling from bejeweled tongues clash together in a blend of titanic proportions, and we are one. All we need is closer, closer, and soon the joined words come from inseprable lips; did Shakespeare know? Had he the experience, the awe, the losses? How could he compare praying hands to bounden lips if he didn't? We are the new Shakespeare; we write our own story with our enjoined hands, entangled legs. Our fingers meshed together spell out what our tongues cannot. We write our own love story, forging through the trouble that is past and the fear that is to come. They say actions speak louder than words, that an image is worth ten thousand words. Well, whoever they were....they were right.

1

I didn't know what to do with it, I guess I was just driving aimlessly; no signs, no lines, no lights to tell me when to stop. And when I finally broke down in everyone's way...you were there. You were the distraction I needed. I fell for an idea, a legend, a figment. I crashed down hard and didn't know right from left; yet left to my own devices, I could feel one aspect remained-the protection. Your words captivated me like the scent of an autumn breeze after a long hot summer, forming a protective shield around me, a thicket paragraphs deep. I fell for a distraction...you fell for a lost traveler. How can we distinguish one feeling from another when our very beings are tangled up in this mass of rhyme we have spewed forth? Silver words falling from bejeweled tongues clash together in a blend of titanic proportions, and we are one. All we need is closer, closer, and soon the joined words come from inseparable lips; did Shakespeare know? Had he the experience, the awe, the losses? How could he compare praying hands to bounden lips if he didn't? We are the new Shakespeare; we write our own story with our enjoined hands, entangled legs. Our fingers meshed together spell out what our tongues cannot. We write our own love story, forging through the trouble that is past and the fear that is to come. They say actions speak louder than words, that an image is worth ten thousand words. Well, whoever they were....they were right.

0

Sep 17, 2015

Sep 17, 2015 at 8:54 AM UTC

xmxrgxncy

Actions

I didn't know what to do with it, I guess I was just driving aimlessly; no signs, no lines, no lights to tell me when to stop. And when I finally broke down in everyone's way...you were there. You were the distraction I needed. I fell for an idea, a legend, a figment. I crashed down hard and didn't know right from left; yet left to my own devices, I could feel one aspect remained-the protection. Your words captivated me like the scent of an autumn breeze after a long hot summer, forming a protective shield around me, a thicket paragraphs deep. I fell for a distraction...you fell for a lost traveler. How can we distinguish one feeling from another when our very beings are tangled up in this mass of rhyme we have spewed forth? Silver words falling from bejeweled tongues clash together in a blend of titanic proportions, and we are one. All we need is closer, closer, and soon the joined words come from inseparable lips; did Shakespeare know? Had he the experience, the awe, the losses? How could he compare praying hands to bounden lips if he didn't? We are the new Shakespeare; we write our own story with our enjoined hands, entangled legs. Our fingers meshed together spell out what our tongues cannot. We write our own love story, forging through the trouble that is past and the fear that is to come. They say actions speak louder than words, that an image is worth ten thousand words. Well, whoever they were....they were right.

1