"greene" poems
In praise of Eliza, Queen of the Shepherds
See where she sits upon the grassie greene,
(O seemely sight!)
Yclad in Scarlot, like a mayden Queene,
And ermines white:
Upon her head a Cremosin coronet
With Damaske roses and Daffadillies set:
Bay leaves betweene,
And primroses greene,
Embellish the sweete Violet.
Tell me, have ye seene her angelick face
Like Phoebe fayre?
Her heavenly haveour, her princely grace,
Can you well compare?
The Redde rose medled with the White yfere,
In either cheeke depeincten lively chere:
Her modest eye,
Her Majestie,
Where have you seene the like but there?
I see Calliope speede her to the place,
Where my Goddesse shines;
And after her the other Muses trace
With their Violines.
Bene they not Bay braunches which they do beare,
All for Elisa in her hand to weare?
So sweetely they play,
And sing all the way,
That it a heaven is to heare.
Lo, how finely the Graces can it foote
To the Instrument:
They dauncen deffly, and singen soote,
In their meriment.
Wants not a fourth Grace to make the daunce even?
Let that rowme to my Lady be yeven.
She shal be a Grace,
To fyll the fourth place,
And reigne with the rest in heaven.
Bring hether the Pincke and purple Cullambine,
With Gelliflowres;
Bring Coronations, and Sops-in-wine
Worne of Paramoures:
Strowe me the ground with Daffadowndillies,
And Cowslips, and Kingcups, and lovèd Lillies:
The pretie Pawnce,
And the Chevisaunce,
Shall match with the fayre flowre Delice.
Now ryse up, Elisa, deckèd as thou art
In royall aray;
And now ye daintie Damsells may depart
Eche one her way.
I feare I have troubled your troupes to longe:
Let dame Elisa thanke you for her song:
And if you come hether
When Damsines I gether,
I will part them all you among.
4.4k
…These men are worth your tears:
You are not worth their merriment.
-Wilfred Owen, “Apologia Pro Poemate Meo”
When that loudmouth on the wireless machine
Alludes to Western Civilization
What does he mean? Paradise Lost? Probably not
Nor Saint Paul speaking on the Field of Mars
The Kalevala, Hagia Sophia
With its pendentives lifting up our prayers
Horatius fighting to defend his bridge
And Wilfred Owen dying bravely on his
Lord Tennyson and Idylls of the King
Chapultepec, Henry V, Becket
The paratroops at Arnhem, Saint Thomas More,
His King’s loyal servant, but God’s first
The Stray Dog poets of Saint Petersburg
The brave last stand of Roland at Roncesvalles
Lewis and Tolkien and glasses of beer
Montcalm and Wolfe on the Plains of Abraham
Hildegard von Bingen, Siegfried and the Rhine
Magna Carta, HMS Hood, the Thames
The Grove of Daphne, “The Old Rugged Cross”
Beatrix Potter and her little pet rabbit
El Cid, Anne Frank, John Keats, Saint Benedict
“I Have a Dream,” Dostoyevsky, and Greene
Viktor Frankl, Dag Hammarkskjold, and Proust
Good Chaucer’s naughty pilgrims telling tales
The Gettysburg Address, Willie and Joe
Stern Saint Augustine of North Africa
Wodehouse writing a jolly bit of fun
Saint Corbinian and Bavaria
The ancient glories of Byzantium
Pius XII contra the bombs and lies
The 602nd TD Battalion
Saint Joan, the Prado, and Robert Frost
And far, far more.
When that loudmouth on the wireless machine
Alludes to Western Civilization
What does he mean?
Nov 4, 2018
Nov 4, 2018 at 4:06 PM UTC
Don’t let the last name fool you of Greene
As you continue to read, you will understand what made him structured lean
Mr. Greene was a man who won International Federation of Bodybuilders of MR. WORLD title twice
There were times when Mr. Greene called Joe Weider and asked for advice
It was intensity with the weights
Then taking in food protein and drinking protein shakes
Mr. Greene is a personal friend of mine
He used to tell me stories of bodybuilding ways
Also stay away from drugs and go astray
Yet he was every bodybuilder’s friend
But on the Bodybuilding stage, it was about the win
Mr. Greene’s muscles were his voice on stage
In the audience, it was the posing that did amaze
It left the audience and Judge’s in a daze
It was his proportion being the fine line
Then it was the repetitions that contributed being combined
Under the spotlight, Mr. Greene was the terminator
But it was his posing being the illustrator
Franklyn Greene was focused down to the finish
This is what makes him distinguished
A Bodybuilding champion who was meant to be
The world witnessed and was able to see
Mr. Greene made Bodybuilding everything that it should be
He is now retired from competition, but continues to train
Bodybuilding in his heart still remains
His motto, “Train with focus and eye on detail”
Franklyn Greene who did achieve and many bodybuilding awards he did receive. Accomplishments with many wins, and with a past being a milestone, but the name of Franklyn Greene who is still known.
Feb 20, 2016
Feb 20, 2016 at 12:21 PM UTC
She is my friend
She is the one who said that
She is not interested in my love
She is independent
She is wonderful
She is beautiful
She is kind
She is witty
She is smart
She is my Pam Beasly
She is my Rachel Greene
She is my Gilmore Girl
She is the one that I wait for
She is perfect
She is my forbidden fruit
She is Awesome
She is Nice
She is Neat
She is Amazingly smart
She is a goddess of perfection
Aug 13, 2018
Aug 13, 2018 at 3:33 AM UTC
I look forward to the re-enactments of historic moments in the pageant of The United States of America. [sic]
Gettysburg, Crossing the Delaware, The Moon Landing, Paul Revere's Ride, The March on Washington, The Storming of the Capital, The Clearing of Lafayette Plaza, The George Floyd ****** The Separation of Families, The Arizona Re-count, The Plot to Assassinate Democratic Governors, The Imprisonment of: Jared, Donny, Eric, Ivanka, Don, Carlson, Greene, Gaetz, Guilianni, Hannity, Conway, McVeigh, Barr [sic] (just to mention a few of the Founding Fuck-Ups.), the death of 650,000 people (the vast majority being innocent), The Pandemic of the Unvaxxed [sic]
After July 4, 2024, History may never be the same. See it now!
Jul 22, 2021
Jul 22, 2021 at 3:39 PM UTC
thank you
for introducing me
to good music
whenever i listen
to ernest greene
i think of you
and it's not sad,
it's not me missing you
or wishing things
were like they used to be
the thoughts
that are attached
to those songs
are happy
because i'm happy
i met you
even if now
we only speak
from time to time
you'll always be
a happy memory
and those are rare
to come by
May 10, 2013
May 10, 2013 at 12:36 PM UTC
"That's the thing about pain... It demands to be felt."
-John Greene
Pain is inevitable.
Just like death you can't avoid it.
There is pain in sorrow.
There is pain in beauty.
There is pain in everything.
Even if it is the happiest moment it could still hurt.
You search and search for a painless event but you'll never find it.
The definition of inevitable is unavoidable.
There is no getting around it.
It will come into your life.
No matter how hard you try to block it out.
Pain is always there.
No matter what.
Jan 12, 2017
Jan 12, 2017 at 11:13 PM UTC
Not much longer now before we and Keats
Must pack up all our impedimenta
Into a photocopier paper box
And after a Wal-Mart-cake reception – leave
No one will notice us, and that’s okay
Thomas and Frost will meet us with the car
Greene will suggest that we go for a drink
The designated driver might be Shakespeare
With Fermor beside him reading the map
Guareschi and Wodehouse laughing in the back
Lewis and Chesterton will bring the beer
And Leonard Cohen will adjust his hat
In God’s name we will sit under the apple trees
And tell merry tales of the lives of kings
And whether we shall meet again I know not.
Therefore our everlasting farewell take:
For ever, and for ever, farewell…
If we do meet again, why, we shall smile;
If not, why, then, this parting was well made.
-Julius Caesar V.1.115-119
Dec 11, 2018
Dec 11, 2018 at 3:40 PM UTC
I tip my hat to Kierkegaard
Who was there when things were hard,
To Mr. Hofstadter
Loading my cannon with fodder,
To Willie Yeats
Who showed me my poetic cognates,
To the Buddha
Who, mentally being a barracuda,
Illuminated what patience really means,
To Graham Greene's
"Brighton Rock"'s influence on Morrissey,
Which made me smile at the sea
And recognize "in my own life
What Robert Browning meant
By an old hunter talking with Gods;
But I am not content."
Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 1:26 AM UTC
Hey!
My name is Alice,
and I just wanted you to know,
that you are in my thoughts today,
and everything I do is in your name.
I hope I do your name honor.
Dec 19, 2012
Dec 19, 2012 at 1:12 PM UTC
“You should never be surprised by or feel the need to explain why any physical system is in a high entropy state.”
― Brian Greene, The Fabric of the Cosmos
Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 11:57 PM UTC
Lady Greene, maleficent in intent,
irrupted, casting pale blue shadows across
the stone walling which begged of freedom
willowy now in stance, plaid cloak
hanging loosely from her frame,
resembling a marsupial, with a gaping pouch
keeping her harness inside,
a typical crank, eccentric and
unduly zealous,
she would divulge those none benevolent feelings
frankly, without restraint
her sharpened tongue,
cut like a smashed glass plate
instinct told her now was the time
and as she rushed through the gate
of the enclosed garden,
the grassed open fields,
parted with fear, at Greene's
baleful stare
Able Master raced toward her
fitting the gear to his head
she mounted the saddle
darkness falling
at the first sign of movement.
© Sia Jane
Feb 2, 2014
Feb 2, 2014 at 11:10 AM UTC
This one's for the 20 kids
Now all dead, god forbid
For the parents who now cry
Who always ask themselves, "why?"
For those teachers killed on the job
Their entire city mourns and sobs
For all the people who took a fall
I support you and I bless you all.
To the familes of Charlotte Bacon, Daniel Barden, Rachel Davino, Olivia Engel, Josephine Gay, Ana M. Marquez-Greene, Dylan Hockley, Dawn Hochsprung, Madeleine F. Hsu, Catherine V. Hubbard, Chase Kowalski, Jesse Lewis, James Mattioli, Grace McDonnell, Anne Marie Murphy, Emilie Parker, Jack Pinto, Noah Pozner, Caroline Previdi, Jessica Rekos, Avielle Richman, Lauren Rousseau, Mary Sherlach, Victoria Soto, Benjamin Wheeler, and Allison N. Wyatt.
Dec 19, 2012
Dec 19, 2012 at 9:00 PM UTC
Life is no story
It's not Disney,
Or John Greene,
Or Rick Riordan
The end isn't happy
Or sad
Or astonishing
Or mysterious
Or much of anything at all
You simply stop living
Life is no story
I'd love it if it were
Please,
Tell me how to act
Tell me what to say
Tell me who to love
Make my life easier
Life is no story
There is no
******
Eplilogue
Moral
There are no plans
No one cares about you
Not all will build to the end
For life is not a story
May 27, 2015
May 27, 2015 at 11:04 PM UTC
Tichborne's Elegie,
(written with his owne hand in the Tower before his execution)
My prime of youth is but a frost of cares,
My feast of joy is but a dish of paine,
My Crop of corne is but a field of tares,
And al my good is but vaine hope of gaine.
The day is past, and yet I saw no sunne,
And now I live, and now my life is done.
My tale was heard, and yet it was not told,
My fruite is falne, & yet my leaves are greene:
My youth is spent, and yet I am not old,
I saw the world, and yet I was not seene.
My thred is cut, and yet it is not spunne,
And now I live, and now my life is done.
I sought my death, and found it in my wombe,
I lookt for life, and saw it was a shade:
I trod the earth, and knew it was my Tombe,
And now I die, and now I was but made.
My glasse is full, and now my glasse is runne,
And now I live, and now my life is done.
Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 3:53 PM UTC
About Those Purple Socks
Graham Greene’s Monsignor Quixote
The world had no more use for any of them:
An old Communist, an old priest, an old car
All of them well into their horsemeat days
And so they fled, and crashed into the truth
On a chivalric quest for purple socks
Wandering on the road to Golgotha
Their Stations of the Cross a cinema,
A pair of Guardia, a brothel, wine
And so they fled, and fell into the Truth
There at the foot of the Altar of God
Dec 16, 2016
Dec 16, 2016 at 8:53 PM UTC
Con ciudades y autores frecuentadosVenecia / Guanajuato / Maupassant /
Leningrado / Sousándrade / Berlín /
Cortázar / Bioy Casares / Medellín /
Lisboa / Sartre / Oslo / Valle Inclán /
Kafka / Managua / Faulkner / Paul Celan /
Ítalo Svevo / Quito / Bergamín /
Buenos Aires / La Habana / Graham Greene /
Copenhague / Quiroga / Thomas Mann /
Onetti / Siena / Shakespeare / Anatole
France / Saramago / Atenas / Heinrich Böll /
Cádiz / Martí / Gonzalo de Berceo /
París / Vallejo / Alberti / Santa Cruz
de Tenerife / Roma / Marcel Proust /
Pessoa / Baudelaire / Montevideo
1.3k
After three drinks, I sit and focus
On the night in Santo Domingo,
Like Greene’s Honorary Consul,
It is “the right measure” for me,
Beckett reads Beckett remembering.
Where he strips man’s inexhaustible
Search for meaning to bare bones.
These thoughts aided by a smooth
Handmade cigar and Carlos Primero,
I wonder as I focus on this scrap of
Scribbles should I keep it, or leave it
On the table, for some ***** to read,
While he smokes the dog-end of
What was a reasonably good cigar?
Nov 25, 2012
Nov 25, 2012 at 9:34 AM UTC
For David Jones, 1895-1974
Poet, Artist
Pte., Royal Welch Fusiliers
One can go back to one's own home…
and everything is so changed that one is a stranger.
― Graham Greene, The Ministry of Fear
I went away, a young and foolish lad
Imagining I would go home someday
Made manly in the war, someone to respect
Admired by all in the old, familiar scenes
There was only exile. Echoes and screams
Fumbling through the flashbacks for charger clips
And stepping carefully lest the lawn explode
In dreams lit only by parachute flares
While waiting for the order for volley fire
And is the safety on? Or am I off?
Nov 11, 2018
Nov 11, 2018 at 8:01 AM UTC
Ode to Barnes & Noble
Patrick Leigh Fermor never roamed these aisles
Sir John Betjeman never rhymed these aisles
Graham Greene never despaired of these aisles
And Rod McKuen was never here alone
And anyway the two or three feet of poetry
Are hidden far away in the back behind
The puzzles, records, comics, and plastic toys
And solitaries plugged into their machines
But on a winter weekday a writer’s retreat -
A yellow pad, coffee, and a window seat
Sep 15, 2016
Sep 15, 2016 at 7:31 PM UTC
It's with great sadness when I say that we won't see her anymore.
Lena died in March of 2020 and she was born in March of 1944.
She is survived by her husband who is my Uncle James.
Losing such a special person is sad and it's also a shame.
James Greene Junior and Sharon Redmond are her two children.
After living for seven and a half decades, she has gone to Heaven.
She died just twenty-four hours before her 76th birthday.
Her loved ones are heart broken because she passed away.
Jul 11, 2020
Jul 11, 2020 at 8:16 AM UTC
*STRINGS & SYMMETRY - JIMI & RAINBOWS
India Pale Ale nestled comfortably
in one hand,
Pilot G-2 .05 rested anxiously in the other.
The ale went down
like it was the end of the day-
smoothe, cold
and tasted like more.
The pen just looked at me,
daring me to let it
caress this page,
spread its inky passion
like the rainbow of colors
Jimi created with his guitar.
ooooo
It reminds me of recent conversations
with Brian Greene
about strings, resonance
and vibration;
about the make up of the universe
and the meaning of symmetry.
Conversations about the harmonics
of Calabi-Yau shapes,
expecially as multi-dimensional
expressions of gravity,
time and space.
ooooo
But I think
if you want to really understand
the elegance of the universe;
feel the fabric of the cosmos
and its loops of energy,
then you have to listen as
the stretching of Jimi's guitar strings
vibrate, bend and fold.
Jimi created rainbows
when he played.
And what are rainbows
but vibrating color in various shapes.
These colors, escaping his guitar
and melting into the vastness of space.
ooooo
Some say Jimi was an alien.
He stayed awhile
but then slipped out again
into the 9th dimension.
But I think
he emerged from the resonance
in a Calabi-Yau hole of infinity
found in the notes of "9 to the Universe".
He then disappeared in the rhythym
of flaming color arising out from
"Voodoo Chile (Slight Return)".
ooooo
Jimi would pick those strings
at Planck length speed
causing flames to leap
and go higher,
igniting the universe
with vibrations of blues
and riotous laughter.
Jimi knew how to fly
and amuse.
He knew how to laugh
and play jokes
on the universe!
He would make us smile,
keep time with our feet,
and 'kiss the sky'.
ooooo
Finishing up the last of the Pale Ale,
putting down the Pilot pen,
I am ready to seek rainbows
and listen to the universe sing.
Aztec Warrior 1.28.16 (re-worked)*
Jan 28, 2016
Jan 28, 2016 at 10:19 PM UTC
It was windy when my father finally met the man who took his hopes from him. It's always windy in the desert during the day unless you're in a town or an arojjo. Greg had trailed the man from Tuson all the way to El Paso, a three hundred mile ride. The story goes that the guy dad was after was just a bounty...but I know the real background.
My father may have been many things, may have had a dark streak in him, may have had a past he never spoke of...but so do I.
The ironic thing is that this man my father had been hunting over so many miles, used to be his best friend. This man, called Greene, taught my dad all he knew, and left Greg when he needed him most.
Word on the trail was that Greene and his boys cut up a couple workin girls, cut em up the way no woman ever should live through.
Greg found em, walked in on them when they weren't expecting anything, snuck up on them in their camp out of town .
My dad shot four of em down before they could draw...
and Greene was the only one left asking why?
"Why Greg?" he asked. "You know why."
Jan 28, 2015
Jan 28, 2015 at 3:54 AM UTC
By Arcassin Burnham
So much you could have done,
With life in an apocalypse,
It was about how you could do,
To worth more than being alive,
than being the notion of moving your lips,
You were someone's sister and daughter,
The fate you saw should have never taken advantage,
After the death of your father,
You and Maggie could barely manage,
These endings did so much damage,
To you,
No you were never average,
Getting though that extra leverage,
Just see rick and the crew,
I wonder how death is in Spanish,
The beauty you possess hold a lot of memories,
And when sacrifices were made , you made a lot of remedies,
And the way that you use to sing,
Made us all feeling there is hope,
And your passing will bring us pain,
We will miss you,
Just hope you know.
R.I.p beth greene.
Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 9:35 PM UTC
One Foot Behind
A Poem by Eclipsing Moon-blood red
"A story has no beginning or end; arbitrarily one chooses that moment of experience from which to look back or from which to look ahead." Graham Greene, The End of the Affair
Running out of time , one foot behind.
A very old saying and very old thought.
Did the thought come first
Or did the saying produce the thought.
Chicken or egg
I ve always thought that the egg was laid
So if God created the animals first
Were We behind at the
inception?
creation ?
"A story has no beginning or end; arbitrarily one chooses that moment of experience from which to look back or from which to look ahead." Graham Greene, The End of the Affair
© 2011 Eclipsing Moon-blood red
Sep 15, 2011
Sep 15, 2011 at 4:03 PM UTC