"ensign" poems
time and tide waits for none
nor does the soldier of the battle won
swift as the light that pass
the mist crept the landmass
thunder and lightning left out
when the major called out
ahoy! all brave men
the sons of the Ganges terrain
reach out to the far north
where the enemy slept forth
show no mercy for you'l receive none
feel no pain and march as one
here's the ensign to raise up aloft
think of the weary deeds that you've got
let the din of cannon shred
the rhythm to carry you in right tread
never panic when the men grew wear
wave the standard to shook the fear
never misjudge the foe as weak
but remember your oath to our peak
never fall when ponderous struck
never halt when stark strike
fight till your warmth is turned icy
then the hawkish eyes will see
the unbeaten soul stamped on Indian lads
the mortal's robes you 've clad
holds the blessings of thousand
which will retain your soul and
spirit even when the tricolor is laid
on the honored graves made
hold tightly like limpet
till success is met
march brave Indians with gusto
and show them you are a maestro
draw your sword across
to pierce the devil's heart across
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 4:08 AM UTC
[Being an humble address to Her Majesty's Naval advisers, who sold Nelson's old flagship to the Germans for a thousand pounds.]
WHO says the Nation's purse is lean,
Who fears for claim or bond or debt,
When all the glories that have been
Are scheduled as a cash asset?
If times are bleak and trade is slack,
If coal and cotton fail at last,
We've something left to barter yet--
Our glorious past.
There's many a crypt in which lies hid
The dust of statesman or of king;
There's Shakespeare's home to raise a bid,
And Milton's house its price would bring.
What for the sword that Cromwell drew?
What for Prince Edward's coat of mail?
What for our Saxon Alfred's tomb?
They're all for sale!
And stone and marble may be sold
Which serve no present daily need;
There's Edward's Windsor, labelled old,
And Wolsey's palace, guaranteed.
St. Clement Danes and fifty fanes,
The Tower and the Temple grounds;
How much for these? Just price them, please,
In British pounds.
You hucksters, have you still to learn,
The things which money will not buy?
Can you not read that, cold and stern
As we may be, there still does lie
Deep in our hearts a hungry love
For what concerns our island story?
We sell our work -- perchance our lives,
But not our glory.
Go barter to the knacker's yard
The steed that has outlived its time!
Send hungry to the pauper ward
The man who served you in his prime!
But when you touch the Nation's store,
Be broad your mind and tight your grip.
Take heed! And bring us back once more
Our Nelson's ship.
And if no mooring can be found
In all our harbours near or far,
Then tow the old three-decker round
To where the deep-sea soundings are;
There, with her pennon flying clear,
And with her ensign lashed peak high,
Sink her a thousand fathoms sheer.
There let her lie!
3.2k
Heh! Walk her round. Heave, ah, heave her short again!
Over, ****** her over, there, and hold her on the pawl.
Loose all sail, and brace your yards aback and full—
Ready jib to pay her off and heave short all!
Well, ah, fare you well; we can stay no more with you, my love—
Down, set down your liquor and your girl from off your knee;
For the wind has come to say:
“You must take me while you may,
If you’d go to Mother Carey
(Walk her down to Mother Carey!),
Oh, we’re bound to Mother Carey where she feeds her chicks at sea!”
Heh! Walk her round. Break, ah, break it out o’ that!
Break our starboard-bower out, apeak, awash, and clear!
Port—port she casts, with the harbour-mud beneath her foot,
And that’s the last o’ bottom we shall see this year!
Well, ah, fare you well, for we’ve got to take her out again—
Take her out in ballast, riding light and cargo-free.
And it’s time to clear and quit
When the hawser grips the bitt,
So we’ll pay you with the foresheet and a promise from the sea!
Heh! Tally on. Aft and walk away with her!
Handsome to the cathead, now; O tally on the fall!
Stop, seize and fish, and easy on the davit-guy.
Up, well up the fluke of her, and inboard haul!
Well, ah, fare you well, for the Channel wind’s took hold of us,
Choking down our voices as we ****** the gaskets free.
And it’s blowing up for night,
And she’s dropping light on light,
And she’s snorting under bonnets for a breath of open sea,
Wheel, full and by; but she’ll smell her road alone to-night.
Sick she is and harbour-sick—Oh, sick to clear the land!
Roll down to Brest with the old Red Ensign over us—
Carry on and thrash her out with all she’ll stand!
Well, ah, fare you well, and it’s Ushant slams the door on us,
Whirling like a windmill through the ***** scud to lee:
Till the last, last flicker goes
From the tumbling water-rows,
And we’re off to Mother Carey
(Walk her down to Mother Carey!),
Oh, we’re bound for Mother Carey where she feeds her chicks at sea!
2.8k
Kismet!
Genuine, loyal, royal and true.
Ensign flaring, pearly love.
Trumpets serenade.
An opal tinge of missing luck.
Mislaid on the way.
Left me rather blue.
Kismet could have kissed me.
She could have kissed him too.
Made him want to stay a while.
A caricature in goldfish bowl.
Surface scraping, seeking air.
Blessed are the meek of heart.
To live and breathe, for words of art.
Write words of honour, passion and pain.
Scratch out love words once again.
Hold tender words.
Close in heart.
Near in head.
To say once more before I'm dead.
Retreat and defeat come not to me.
True love or nothing.
But, not lucky enough to be,
Never in a daydream.
Or ever in a nightmare.
In the land of chivalry.
Only knight's a writer.
That's how it's got to be.
My writing is the one for me.
By ladylivvi1
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 6:05 PM UTC
In a Christian world.
The star an ensign.
A symbol.
Pointing out wicked wounds inflicted on Christ .
While was crucified.
By ignorance cruel.
The points denote an insult on his tragic dying soul.
Our saviour saved by pointed pain.
Babylonians long since gone.
Showed Heaven in four quarters.
Jupiter, Mars, Lady Venus and Mercury.
Houses in which archangels dwell.
Quarters denoted by a star.
Ishtar at the top.
Five points, a symbol.
The Grecian star divides by elements.
And beautiful phases of the moon.
Breathe in the air.
Walk on earths mantle.
Let fire not tempt fingers.
Water to extinguish.
Vision on the facets of the luna moon.
Seasonal in phases.
Young moon in spring, with water brings..seen in the West.
Vernal equinox provides the life rebirth.
Moon in youth is the summer brings..Second quarter in the South.
Autumn comes with harvest moon.
Middle age of lunar cycle.
Dry as earth.
Almost barren beauty.
Three quarters of the cycle.
Arises in the east.
During autumns changing face and fruit filled feast.
Coldness carries death in chains brings winter.
In the North faces of the moon.
Hidden in winter nights of death.
Bring on the winter solstice.
The final point I bring to you.
Is in spirituality.
Inspirational!
By ladylivvi1
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Nov 21, 2013
Nov 21, 2013 at 3:38 PM UTC
Born
The 7th son
I steer
Ever
Toward
The deep
Yet
Jagged rocks
Splinter
All thought
What bliss
This loneliness
Compels
An old way
Yet untamed
By and by
A thousand
Meters
Of coast
Encompasses my
Throat
Leveled
By the drink
I Await
My body
Human flotsam
Jettisoned
O'r starboard
Eons ago
Swallowed salt water
Ever hotter
Listening to waves
And gulls spell my name
Young ensign of fate
Breathing
Cyclic and finite
A novel storm
Looms
On the horn
On the cliffs
adrift
Dec 23, 2015
Dec 23, 2015 at 11:38 AM UTC
From the beach front seen.
Scene from a movie.
Maybe image from a magazine.
An eerie flotilla of vessels tiny.
Safely escorting her home.
Mere pin ****** on the bright horizon.
Sky lit up near sapphire.
Dressed with resounding rebound light.
Reflected from the moon.
Near cloudless was the sky that night.
Engraved on the horizon red sails.
Redder than scarlet.
Blazing orange aura.
Glowing in the twilight sky.
Creepy ensign just visible flying at her helm.
In myth this was mentioned by many a sorry soul.
Perhaps portent of coming doom.
The dead they just don't know.
No-one knew who'd seen her.
Twas many years ago.
The dead had long since perished.
Was the warning true.
None will ever know.
By ladylivvi1
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Sep 28, 2013
Sep 28, 2013 at 1:45 PM UTC
cause im laying here under the projected stars
i turned out the lights
and made a trip to aeroponics
to pick up those fungi you so humbly requested
so put down your earl grey (hot)
take off your shoes
let your hair down with me
and lets look at the stars
not the ones out of the window
but the ones glimmering on the screen
and pretend we're just at the planetarium
back on earth
home
ill massage your feet
and we will proceed to laugh
and roll around under the consoles
but NO TICKLING
you remember what happened last time
ill tweak the access to the room
and you
you will pretend like this is
your first time
i will to
ill shake and shiver
and you
well you just be however you were
before you met me
authoritative, stern and expecting
not of child
but of an ensign who knows
how to get the job done
with nary an irregularity
earning every pip
for valiance in the line of duty
wounds endured in battle
courage under fire
Apr 15, 2013
Apr 15, 2013 at 12:36 AM UTC
What do you do in the middle of the night?
Don't touch the stars they can burn you. (it's a metaphor)
See the moon is going down.
If the darkness gets you you can't find your way...
In the inside and on the outside the reflections are full of space dust and
you can't understand if it is a truth or a lie
A ship of dreams pier or ensign
touches your wishes..
you want to cry but you can't...
If love is as small as a human heart you
just can not dare to have a bigger one
Try to taste the loneliness too and
you can feel its echo from the depth
and you can not understand if it good or bad..
You are different in the inside and on the outside.
Your "lesses" and "mores" will be mixed.
One will fit into the skin of the other.
If all these don't happen you won't be able to survive till morning.
Jan 22, 2013
Jan 22, 2013 at 5:30 AM UTC
when tempting scores of breath
inlay the lips of clouds
as winds burn in through east
as ambitions grow loud
a touch of aimless sight
pressed so close to mine
i wait upon my muse
as mortals seek divine
to slip into your thought
in musings of your being
as pouting tulips grin
ensign a twilight's scene
with wishes etched in sky
when moon rides into dark
you land into my dreams
my breathing evening star
Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 3:56 PM UTC
Home is full of memories
Pleasant, kind and sweet.
Thoughtful and endearing
with memories unique.
Among the celebrations,
‘Tis there you will find
Happy family gatherings
Of all sorts and kind.
Birthdays and holidays
With peace for the mind.
Home is a place of rest.
The home is an ensign.
Jan 30, 2015
Jan 30, 2015 at 9:06 PM UTC
Your soft sweet voice
A lyrical masterpiece
By design
My ensign
A hill
to conquer
A shadow in the woods
You are my ensign
it's true.
May 2, 2017
May 2, 2017 at 11:29 PM UTC
In the shade rise the colors of all you love
And one by one everything is gone. No
Not all but way too much the shade of
What was fading till the less and less of
What once was but death you who were
From the beginning with me and who did
Paint with exquisite beauty all that I ever
Loved are now my last companion,faithful
To the end, a friend to stand against all the
Loss. If you leave me then I shall truly be
Alone
It ii is a light too great, a light without the
Night. Blinding. Oh death do not desert me.
I know I have raged against the dying of the
Light but now I know better. Death did shade
My eves did make me see and love the other. Oh
Death must be born again for all I have Loved is
Naught if not for thee-that has been revealed The
Last shall be the first. Hidden charity is its ensign.
Feb 1, 2018
Feb 1, 2018 at 1:26 PM UTC