"bryan" poems
Following are several translations
of the 'Old Pond' poem, which may be
the most famous of all haiku:
Furuike ya
kawazu tobikomu
mizu no oto
-- Basho
Literal Translation
Fu-ru (old) i-ke (pond) ya,
ka-wa-zu (frog) to-bi-ko-mu (jumping into)
mi-zu (water) no o-to (sound)
The old pond--
a frog jumps in,
sound of water.
Translated by Robert Hass
Old pond...
a frog jumps in
water's sound.
Translated by William J. Higginson
An old silent pond...
A frog jumps into the pond,
splash! Silence again.
Translated by Harry Behn
There is the old pond!
Lo, into it jumps a frog:
hark, water's music!
Translated by John Bryan
The silent old pond
a mirror of ancient calm,
a frog-leaps-in splash.
Translated by Dion O'Donnol
old pond
frog leaping
splash
Translated by Cid Corman
Antic pond--
frantic frog jumps in--
gigantic sound.
Translated by Bernard Lionel Einbond
MAFIA HIT MAN POET: NOTE FOUND PINNED TO LAPEL
OF DROWNED VICTIM'S DOUBLE-BREASTED SUIT!!!
'Dere wasa dis frogg
Gone jumpa offa da logg
Now he inna bogg.'
-- Anonymous
Translated by George M. Young, Jr.
Old pond
leap -- splash
a frog.
Translated by Lucien Stryck
The old pond,
A frog jumps in:.
Plop!
Translated by Allan Watts
The old pond, yes, and
A frog is jumping into
The water, and splash.
Translated by G.S. Fraser
11.2k
By A Foreigner
I like Americans.
They are so unlike Canadians.
They do not take their policemen seriously.
They come to Montreal to drink.
Not to criticize.
They claim they won the war.
But they know at heart that they didn't.
They have such respect for Englishmen.
They like to live abroad.
They do not brag about how they take baths.
But they take them.
Their teeth are so good.
And they wear B.V.D.'s all the year round.
I wish they didn't brag about it.
They have the second best navy in the world.
But they never mention it.
They would like to have Henry Ford for president.
But they will not elect him.
They saw through Bill Bryan.
They have gotten tired of Billy Sunday.
Their men have such funny hair cuts.
They are hard to **** in on Europe.
They have been there once.
They produced Barney Google, Mutt and Jeff.
And Jiggs.
They do not hang lady murderers.
They put them in vaudeville.
They read the Saturday Evening Post
And believe in Santa Claus.
When they make money
They make a lot of money.
They are fine people.
6.3k
I'm not afraid to **** myself
What I'm scared of is what happens if it doesn't work out
But I'm doing this and hoping it works.
Mom, I'm sorry I couldn't be everything you wanted out of a daughter. You probably wanted a smart, pretty and elegant daughter and you were delivered this sack of **** I'm sorry that you'll have to clean up my one last mess. I'm sorry that you'll never understand. I'm sorry I could never 'try' as much as you'd like. I love you always, and forever.
Dad, with you I'm always at a loss for words. You and I have a special bond and when I think of you I think of my likes and interests. My music is heavily influenced by you. Thanking you for showing me what good music is. Thank you, I love you. Sorry.
Bryan, My step dad. You have been here to watch me grow up for the past 5 years and thats cool, I'm sorry it wasnt as what you must have expected. I'm sorry. Please take good care of mom and River. I love you
Diana, My step mom. You are literally mommy number 2. I've known you for 10 years. You have guided me into adult hood. You all did great. I love you.
Please don't think this was any of your faults. You will do great with R and K, you did great with me. This is just a flaw within myself. No amount of medication and counselling could fix this. I past the point of help. After 7 years there scars are too deep to reverse.
My aunt and godmother. You helped me out so much. I love you and I'm sorry you saved all this money for college for me to go throw it away with a few too many pills.
To everyone, I'm sorry. You'll have to go to my funeral, you will feel obligated. But don't go unless you actually cared. I know I won't physically be there but I want to know who would've been there.
Anyways, I'm sorry. This time it will work.
Sep 16, 2015
Sep 16, 2015 at 1:25 AM UTC
Oh, the sensation, the media frenzy,
The spotlight, the fame, the hullabaloo,
When anti-evolution laws
Were challenged by the ACLU!
The year: 1925.
The place: Dayton, Tennessee.
To say it was an extravaganza
Wouldn't be hyperbole.
For many people it was hard
To find a way to reconcile
Biblical accounts with science,
So science found itself on trial.
A young teacher, John T. Scopes,
Was willing to face prosecution
For breaking a Tennessee law for having
Given a lesson on evolution.
The "Monkey Trial" it was called.
The challenge meant swimming upstream
For the feisty lawyer Clarence Darrow,
Who helped to lead the defense team.
A prosecutor was William Jennings
Bryan, who with no apology
Loved to stir up outrage against
Evolutionary biology.
Defendant Scopes quickly found
It wouldn't take long for him to know
What it was like to have a part
In a multimedia reality show.
The courthouse received a make-over:
Platforms for newsreel cameras were built;
Extra spectator seats were added.
They were playing the trial to the hilt.
Concession stands sold food and drinks;
Toy monkeys were on display;
A chimp was dressed in a suit and fedora;
The clergy also joined the fray.
The media and the public loved it!
The country watched the trial progress.
What would win: science or scripture?
The answer was probably easy to guess.
After an eight-day trial, the jury
Deliberated. Nine minutes later
They had their verdict: guilty! How
Could someone question THEIR creator?
Scopes had actually never given
The lesson. That's what he later said.
Strangely, five days after the trial,
Williams Jennings Bryan dropped dead.
Laws later changed, but even during
Current times, some people feel
That stories from the Bible should be
In science textbooks. Now THAT'S surreal!
-by Bob B (11-6-18)
Nov 6, 2018
Nov 6, 2018 at 9:00 AM UTC
Once I seen a human ruin
In a elevator-well.
And his members was bestrewin'
All the place where he had fell.
And I says, apostrophisin'
That uncommon woful wreck:
"Your position's so surprisin'
That I tremble for your neck!"
Then that ruin, smilin' sadly
And impressive, up and spoke:
"Well, I wouldn't tremble badly,
For it's been a fortnight broke."
Then, for further comprehension
Of his attitude, he begs
I will focus my attention
On his various arms and legs--
How they all are contumacious;
Where they each, respective, lie;
How one trotter proves ungracious,
T' other one an alibi.
These particulars is mentioned
For to show his dismal state,
Which I wasn't first intentioned
To specifical relate.
None is worser to be dreaded
That I ever have heard tell
Than the gent's who there was spreaded
In that elevator-well.
Now this tale is allegoric--
It is figurative all,
For the well is metaphoric
And the feller didn't fall.
I opine it isn't moral
For a writer-man to cheat,
And despise to wear a laurel
As was gotten by deceit.
For 'tis Politics intended
By the elevator, mind,
It will boost a person splendid
If his talent is the kind.
Col. Bryan had the talent
(For the busted man is him)
And it shot him up right gallant
Till his head began to swim.
Then the rope it broke above him
And he painful came to earth
Where there's nobody to love him
For his detrimented worth.
Though he's living' none would know him,
Or at leastwise not as such.
Moral of this woful poem:
Frequent oil your safety-clutch.Porfer Poog.
2.6k
Baby clothes
With baby toys
Doctor says
It's a boy!
Baby clothes
Little shoes
So very happy
Gateful news
Baby drama
Full of love
A baby boy
They dreamed of
It's Bryan ?
That's my name?
But I was born?
what a shame
It's a girl
Feb 16, 2015
Feb 16, 2015 at 4:06 AM UTC
Tell her I'll be waiting in the usual place
With the tired and weary and there's no escape
To need a woman you've got to know
How the strong get weak and the rich get poor
Slave to love
Oho
Slave to love
You're running with me
Don't touch the ground
We're the restless hearted
Not the chained and bound
The sky is burning
A sea of flame
Though your world is changing
I will be the same
Slave to love
Oho
Slave to love
Slave to love (Nananana)
Oho (Nananana)
Slave to love
I can't escape
I'm a slave to love
The storm is breaking or so it seems
We're too young to reason, too grown up to dream
Now spring is turning your face to mine
I can hear your laughter, I can see your smile
Slave to love (Nananana)
Oho (Nananana)
Slave to love
I can't escape
I'm a slave to love
Slave to love (Nananana)
Oho (Nananana)
Slave to love
I can't escape
I'm a slave to love
Slave to love
I can't escape
I'm a slave to love
Slave to love
I can't escape
I'm a slave to love
Slave to love
I can't escape
I'm a slave to love
Written by Bryan Ferry • Copyright © BMG Rights Management US, LLC
Nov 16, 2016
Nov 16, 2016 at 8:01 PM UTC
I feel the stars
The moon
Passion is in full bloom
It's from me
To you
The galaxies
The planets
The sound of music
Dancing within
We became friends again
We became ok
Within
Close with bonds
Laughing til dawn
Like nothing was ever
Wrong
This must be where we belong
We don't believe in things like destiny
But all say we're soul mates
Destiny struck us down
Made us believe in it's sound
We are destiny bound
This friendship
Is not lost
It's found
Gorilla's
Hummans
New york
Bryan ohio
Blue green and red
It'll never end
We no longer need pretend
We can live without one another
We have each other
Stardust clings to us
It's love
It'll always win
I'm excited to begin
Again
And never
End
Oo oo
Sep 17, 2025
Sep 17, 2025 at 12:56 PM UTC
Why is it you?
Of all people to have the ability to ruin me
why is it you? Bryan?
You're awkward and too tall
on top unmitigated gall
you're plain rude.
So why do I want you?
Bryan?
In my mind there's a collection
of every time you've shown affection
and
The slightest inclination
only heightens my determination
to trip you.
I want you to fall hard
for me. Bryan.
With every facebooked text
it's been my only request
for the whole year.
Did you notice?
Bryan?
When the smallest appreciation
left my pupils dilated
it's so degrading
When my faith in you is fading
more praise is awaiting
I am stuck in this net.
What's so unfair
is that you're not even aware
of what you do to me.
If I told you, would you love me?
Bryan?
Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 9:47 PM UTC
Lilac moons still frolicking
In that meadow of your individuality
You smile to yourself your wolfish grin
Because no one else will ever get it...
That rainbow coursing through your veins...
The delicatessen within your mind
It doesn't matter Erin
Secrets for the privileged zombie muffins
Allow your splendid vortex to swirl
Don't keep the cubic wheels of your world from moving
Christmas tree cookie cutters...
Should only be used for baking
Not for defining the shape of humanity
Hatred should stay out of it
Indignation was called off today
You're too special...
And not in that little yellow bus way
You're always on that rocketship of wow
Don't fear the envy of all the others
For your soul burning so brightly within
It still shines throughout you
Just love it...
I watched you grow like a dandelion
But are you a flower or another garden ****
Make the decision on your own
It's all on you to choose your own adventure now
*Eines Tages wird die Welt dir zuhören...
Sep 23, 2011
Sep 23, 2011 at 6:51 PM UTC
I sit here, watching the sunrise fade to night,
Remembering, forgetting, remembering,
Remembering my childhood in the twilight of the gods,
The Destroyer raging across the land,
Remembering my teenage years in afternoon of the world,
As the glory of man faded, threatening to go out,
Remembering my early adult years in at high noon,
When man's empires spanned the world,
Rising and falling and rising again,
I remember by middle years in the morning of the world,
As man learned to walk, to run, to farm,
And here I sit an old man, as the sunrise fades to night,
Remembering, forgetting, remembering,
The evening darkness lit as the sun sank and dusk came,
Brighter and hotter it got, as high noon approached,
And colder again as the sun rose from dawn,
Bringing me back here, to the first light, fading to night,
The cold winter warming as leaves rose to the trees,
Then turned from brown to yellow to green,
The crops fading from golden to bright green,
As they grew downward back toward the ground,
And the summer heat fading into spring,
The plants shrinking to buds, then sprouts, then barren ground,
As spring fades now back into winter,
As I sit, watching the sunrise fade to night,
Remembering, forgetting, remembering.
~Muninn's Kiss, January 21, 2014, with a nod to T.H. White and Luke Bryan
Jan 21, 2014
Jan 21, 2014 at 11:05 PM UTC
70 mile per hour, one-way nighttime highway;
cars still **** past.
some with one headlight,
but most with none,
but all with horns, horns, horns
blaring, "Bryan! Your brights are blinding me!"
Old 50's culture pitches me his deceitful realtorality from the passenger's seat,
assuring me all is picturesque clean
when,
in fact,
behind his plaster hair
and plastic smile
and porcelain eyes,
disaster lies- a land mine.
Bombs-BOOM-bombs explode coldly,
leaving none to not witness fulfilled prophecy
and say,
"He's dead.
He's really, really dead."
Nov 22, 2011
Nov 22, 2011 at 11:16 PM UTC
Bryan, constantly worries about his life.
Today he went on a walk to clear his head.
It's a beautiful day, the sun is out and the birds chirp gaily.
After a bit, Bryan decides to sit on a log by a small pond
the woes of his future occupy his thoughts.
Then a spider bites Bryan,
suddenly he stops worrying, but,
poisoned by the spider,
Bryan dies.
Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 12:13 AM UTC
they packed the town into a big box
and shipped it to southeast ohio
they packed bryan adams into a box
and shipped it to southeast asia
they packed the baby into a box
and shipped it to madonna
drawn up with a silver pen
the EPZs jurisdiction
the cease fires declaration
and the stockyards reopen for business
the hundred thousand leaves shrouding
the white house roar
like a crowd, like a nation
a few man's hands
shake that sound
like snake's tails rattling
into a megaphone
the heavy metal band pleads self-defense.
they just play music. that's all they do
they're not protesting
except in a vague way
against everything,
they're not sure what
perhaps the chaotic volume
of their early adolescence
a child bent around a pen
is told to count the lima beans again
he counted too fast
a snarling dragon pulls up
and he rides, concluding
in a sorcerer's castle constructed
of speedy fretwork and overbearing tablature
the card game made us
wizards, frankly, and we enjoyed it
more than being what we were
I throw the dice and the king's head
tumbles with them into a basket
a burmese girl sews the silhouette
of a man performing
a feat not meant for man
into the side of a shoe that will
wing you to heaven if
heaven is as high
as a slam dunk. boys
in a park joust styrofoam swords
a hand is folded
behind the back to signify its heroic
loss in battle. it is regrown momentarily
to dunk a chicken mcnugget.
in another park across town
boys no longer ****
each other for their shoes.
jay z is in a booth with warren buffett
and jerry seinfeld at daniel
they are saving the galaxy
the only one we have to save
which nobody lives in anymore
the forest is off in endor
the snow belongs to hoth
a boy fights a war
in an afghan marketplace
through his television set
in hd and widescreen
it's practically photorealisitic
the guns sound authentic
in 5.1 digital surround
another boy fights the exact same war
he wishes it did not look so real
the internet, our new planet
i shut the computer down
404: I am a file no longer to be found
Feb 8, 2014
Feb 8, 2014 at 1:15 PM UTC
Bryan wins the emmy
Goes up stage
First things he says
'i personally thought of voting for matthew'
Matthew laughs,
Legends.
Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 6:50 AM UTC
(a little radiosonde launched by weather balloon from Texas A & M in Bryan-College Station)
There is perhaps a certain indignity
In grounding back on earth among some weeds
Your late balloon a fragment of itself
Your parachute all damp and limp and still
But, oh! what an adventure you have lived!
Scuffy the Tugboat might well envy you
Your day and night in scientific flight
With helium instead of pixie dust
Like Peter Pan you sailed along the wind
Straight on until morning, then home again
Mar 11, 2019
Mar 11, 2019 at 3:32 PM UTC
I guess it's time to reveal the truth,
It's not like I've been lying to you
but I haven't really formally introduced
myself to you, and I've been thinking
It's time to let you in so I can offer
you a cigarette and you can
drink my finest wine while I tell you
that Grizzo is something more
than a childhood nickname that stuck
to the bottom of my shoes like
parking lot gum, or your grandmother's
lipstick on your cheeks, you see
I was quiet, shy, and entering puberty
when people started calling me Grizzo
Some people in high school and college
didn't even know Bryan
Which is funny because I didn't know
myself either but I knew Grizzo
mainly because people expect certain
things and I keep my word
so when I told them I would jump
off the roof, they just stood around
drunk, but not as drunk as me,
No one expects to see Crazy in action
But at least once they do they never
forget the time you jumped off the roof
and hit the ground at 3 in the morning
so hard that your glasses flew off
and the only thing you broke
was your pride, or how you would
always answer everything with **** it"
because if life ***** you might as well
get your nut too
Camel Crush Bold cigarettes in an ashtray
and Jameson on ice with a splash of water
These things can help the words on
late nights or lazy afternoons
Sometimes the best lunch is
a tapped Porter or Stout on special
and putting down a few lines
on crumbled bar room napkins
This is his old habit, this is how
he needs to come out from time to
time
Grizzo isn't all ***** and giggles
though because as much as I want
to be tough, be a hard *** always be right
I'm weak, I'm fragile, and so ******* wrong
about all the things you need to be right
about in life, but I'm turning 29 soon
and I think I'm finally starting to get
why the light needs darkness to shine
why love needs hate to thrive,
why Bryan needs Grizzo to write.
Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 4:26 PM UTC
You are so summer.
You are baskets of wild flowers
and dew drops on grass leaves.
The scent of peppermint carried steady
on a soft wind - that's you.
Stranded in the palm of your hand:
a glass shipwreck - I am stuck
like tired eyes on candleflames.
You are so late nights; early mornings,
pastel shades of rising skies.
Paint me lilacs and baby blues.
Picture me in the pink of spring
under satin dresses; silk songbirds
singing breezes, sewing seeds.
Wrap me up in cold arms while
I wrap you in the warmth of dusk.
You make the sunset blush
every time you step out of your car.
I watch you wipe the dust off the horizon
in a single brushstroke,
I am in love with the view.
My veins are filled with sunshine
that spills from the stereo.
You can't take me home
if I make a bed in your fingerprints.
May 5, 2015
May 5, 2015 at 5:55 PM UTC
Jax,Lily,Flawless,Marta,Dr.Shweta,Shiv,Neeraj,Dg.
Emeka,Miss,Jules,Bridgett,Salim, Joceyn,memoona.
Sampreeta,daud,Stephanie,Grace,No name,Eloisa.
Hijenduanao,Kauthar,Damien,Joye,Marta,Narendra.
Jolene, Perry, Freebird,Surbhi,Godawan,Ikimi,tm,
Xaela,try,S Nirmal,Astrea,Erin,Mindless,Lace,HB.
AP,Timur,Kasidee,Caterra,the untold,Melancholy.
Melanie,mckenzie, clark,beebz,sherri,bryan,bakunawa.
khaliyah,brianna,Ay2brutus,Angel-like,Maxx,Lure ***
Mike, me zeal, Kim,Kim,Maeiby,Shanath,Marshall,xallan.
Weeping Willow,Mike Hauser,Serena,AnnMarie,DavidLewis.
JenniferJohnson, itgonnamakesense,Mike Essiq,Nancy.
Olivia,Paul,Mark,Phil,PoetressBhumi and Wilyam Pax.
Here some more love you all, I pray that you are blessed.
Sep 11, 2019
Sep 11, 2019 at 5:44 PM UTC
Normal
The word pertaining to the behavior of the majority of the masses, yet I refuse the title like unmixed blood cells, pushing the average in me back until I’m taken by my higher self, my true form.
But you wouldn’t know much about that. You can’t wait to get home to watch TV or play your video games.
It’s normal.
Higher
Whether through drugs or levitation, getting high is easy. However, the average cannot reach this level, they cannot display this power. Only we can, us being the lyrical miracles that the world has once craved and the world being those around us that give us our inspirations.
Higher.
And I guess I’m a space shuttle. Yet I have felt no high in chemicals, no uplifting in elevators, just the heightening fuel that ignites in my brain. Yet some can’t take the heat of a burning mind filled with questions. But can you?
We are poems, poetry, poetic expressions. But it’s a dual edged blade of which we have all found. We’re all special, from A.D.D to suicidal, we have the experience to write tragedy. From love to loss we have the reason to write about romance. Love, fear, heroics, sadness, strength, all poetic expressions to us.
We are poets
The people who everyone looks at for supporting. Some of us are tough, some of us are pushovers, and some of us are pacifistic. Yet the reality of our gifts open up a new world for us.
We are poems
Our writings speak to our souls, that’s one more connection from our brains to our hearts and the entities beyond. I write about it and you understand where I come, my point of view. My pain, your inquiry, yet to hear it being read is poetic justice to our emotions.
We are communications
No, I don’t mean through phones or emails. I’m talking through spirit. You see a poet down, you help, period, as we are one and the same in heart. A symbol of independence to those who forget the meaning of the word. But we’re a community and a family, so I love you like a brother or a sister because of the natural familiarity between us.
We are poetic.
Our lives are filled with instances where we simply need to express. Oh, the sweet and sour irony. Our day to day experiences speak for our poetic natures. Whether jamming to Taylor Swift or Tracy Chapman or Migos or even Luke Bryan, musics tell our moods and words tell our stories, our tales, our liveliness and oneness with our selves.
Poetic beings are we, and we are
Poetic
May 12, 2015
May 12, 2015 at 11:20 PM UTC
Sitting in my bedroom,
That's become more of a waystation than a home,
For home to me is wherever you will be,
Zach Bryan crackles out the words I know I will think of,
When I am 20 years older,
And our son has left behind our home.
A traveler on his own journey,
Embarking to his own destination,
In time making his own mistakes,
But in them learning his own lessons,
And from that his own wisdom will be gained.
He will visit,
I know,
Although his first couple of visits will be too few and far between,
It will make you teary,
But knowing that it needs to happen all the same.
Those days to come seem so far away now,
Yet so close all the same,
But I know that we will eventually come to love every minute of it,
And wish we could live through it all again.
Jan 7, 2023
Jan 7, 2023 at 1:18 AM UTC
I spent awhile
In a honey-barbeque
Chicken salad of
Cynicism.
And then one day
Instead of Frank
I was no longer Bryan
But a better version of my Mondays.
Or was it the
Lesser form a
Thursday takes
When you're alone?
I have a desire
Shaded in the glow
Of a stained glass
Display an hour away.
A wish, shrouded in
These filmy layers
Of forgotten words
And remembered sayings.
To be half of one
And twice of me
So I stopped seeing stars
And dropped the peace-sign for a dash.
Reinvented myself
To break all molds
And here I stand, slightly
More intact, I'm back.
Jul 6, 2016
Jul 6, 2016 at 4:51 PM UTC
spin—for a moment even some yarn
in which we both give a ****
and we spend long, quiet evenings quoting
out of biographies of JFK or Bryan Ferry
and forget for a while all the things
we hate about each other, the things that
make us spit on the ground when they
come to mind;
forget them and maybe make love like
normal people. not against the counter before work
lifting your pinstripe skirt—rolling it up, really,
over your *** to gird the top of your hips.
(chaffing crown of ****** thorns)
maybe instead give me more than
5 minutes
and let me bury my face down in you and
you can wrap your legs around my head
to keep me there as long as you please.
and maybe later i'll laugh, sitting against the headboard, long-hand writing,
at something one of my characters has said and looking up
from an account you're working on you won't
understand my laughter but you will be
glad of it.
Apr 24, 2013
Apr 24, 2013 at 11:26 PM UTC