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"kerchiefs" poems
Pleasure, oh pleasure sitting in silence Among the lime trees The silence of delight A perfect pardon Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees No hurry, no hurry To go anywhere While strangers offer smiles Such perfect smiles Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Magic a specialisation A practical specialisation Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees People of all kinds Come streaming by Pilot people Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees People passing with such power Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees All power is violence Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Pleasure, oh pleasure Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees No power is needed here Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Only truth and justice Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees No grievous ache remains a mystery Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees That purple mass made clear Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees An aroma here Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees An exuding stupefying aroma Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees That startles the sparrows Identical sparrows Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Other silence is unequal Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees A quivering tenor of silence Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Gilded silence that flashes Hazily across the vision Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Frenzied silence, irresistible silence Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Silence split into fragments Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Fragments that remain intact Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Silence that vanishes from sight Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees A severed silence That remains infused Golden and deceptive Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Like split up bandits On the run Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Who race up two Different boulevards Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees A day return silence Always nervous and irritable Sitting her in silence Among the lime trees A softening handsome Lilac colored silence Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Regal in its resonance Of romance Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees A silence of scarlet kerchiefs Wears a tail coat Has black raven hair Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Trying to catch spiders Rats, little devils and dogs Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Day breaks Inexorably in silence Over the poet Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees The unstoppable Silence of silence Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Such silence once started Is unstoppable Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Such as the strange silence One finds in snow Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Silence in a deserted shout Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Oh such silent noise Such silent noise Silent noise, silent
0
Sep 28, 2012
Sep 28, 2012 at 3:46 PM UTC
edgar-whitman-wilde
Silence among the lime trees
Pleasure, oh pleasure sitting in silence Among the lime trees The silence of delight A perfect pardon Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees No hurry, no hurry To go anywhere While strangers offer smiles Such perfect smiles Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Magic a specialisation A practical specialisation Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees People of all kinds Come streaming by Pilot people Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees People passing with such power Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees All power is violence Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Pleasure, oh pleasure Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees No power is needed here Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Only truth and justice Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees No grievous ache remains a mystery Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees That purple mass made clear Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees An aroma here Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees An exuding stupefying aroma Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees That startles the sparrows Identical sparrows Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Other silence is unequal Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees A quivering tenor of silence Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Gilded silence that flashes Hazily across the vision Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Frenzied silence, irresistible silence Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Silence split into fragments Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Fragments that remain intact Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Silence that vanishes from sight Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees A severed silence That remains infused Golden and deceptive Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Like split up bandits On the run Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Who race up two Different boulevards Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees A day return silence Always nervous and irritable Sitting her in silence Among the lime trees A softening handsome Lilac colored silence Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Regal in its resonance Of romance Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees A silence of scarlet kerchiefs Wears a tail coat Has black raven hair Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Trying to catch spiders Rats, little devils and dogs Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Day breaks Inexorably in silence Over the poet Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees The unstoppable Silence of silence Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Such silence once started Is unstoppable Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Such as the strange silence One finds in snow Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Silence in a deserted shout Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Oh such silent noise Such silent noise Silent noise, silent
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131
Last night I watched in silence At the end of the road in forest deep I hid amongst the trees watching in awe As gypsies dance while others sleep Under the violet hue of evening sky Haloed by evening's golden moon I watched gypsies dance and sing As flames from bonfires leaped high in the air Dark haired women in shawls and beads Happily dancing and twirling without care Casting their spells of magic and enchantment Performing their honeyed seductions Blended with aphrodisiacs of scent and sound Gypsy men with kerchiefs around their necks Hoops of silver adorning their ears, singing joyful songs Children laughing, dogs barking As if they’re singing right along Oh, I so wanted to join them as I stood watching in awe Envious was I of their freedom and joy Caravans painted in bright images and colors Tambourines jingling as velvet shadows danced in the night Skirts swirling, gold and silver bangles on their arms Dancing 'round the bonfire's fiery light Accordions singing, with happy notes from a fiddler's bow As they sang and danced barefoot under evening moon In the coming dawn once again... It will be time for them to pack and move on With a last meal served... The caravans are readied to make another journey long "Gather yourself up gypsy girls Wonderful as it may seem… A gypsies’ life is never their own Time to move on Time to find another home You must have gypsy blood In order to survive" As their wagons move along dusty trails They'll be looking for a place to camp A place to call home... at least for awhile A place to hang their colored paper lamps Until... Suddenly- a cry rings out "Stop the wagons, ring the bells We've found the perfect place The perfect place for magic spells Tomorrow brings a brand new day! Let's feast, dance and make merry Come on let's get things underway" And so... The journey goes on And never ends! "Gather yourself up gypsy girls Wonderful as it may seem… A gypsies’ life is never their own Time to move on, time to leave Time to find another home You must have gypsy blood In order to survive"
0
Apr 10, 2013
Apr 10, 2013 at 6:17 PM UTC
anne-p-murray-1
The Gypsy Dance Of Life
Last night I watched in silence At the end of the road in forest deep I hid amongst the trees watching in awe As gypsies dance while others sleep Under the violet hue of evening sky Haloed by evening's golden moon I watched gypsies dance and sing As flames from bonfires leaped high in the air Dark haired women in shawls and beads Happily dancing and twirling without care Casting their spells of magic and enchantment Performing their honeyed seductions Blended with aphrodisiacs of scent and sound Gypsy men with kerchiefs around their necks Hoops of silver adorning their ears, singing joyful songs Children laughing, dogs barking As if they’re singing right along Oh, I so wanted to join them as I stood watching in awe Envious was I of their freedom and joy Caravans painted in bright images and colors Tambourines jingling as velvet shadows danced in the night Skirts swirling, gold and silver bangles on their arms Dancing 'round the bonfire's fiery light Accordions singing, with happy notes from a fiddler's bow As they sang and danced barefoot under evening moon In the coming dawn once again... It will be time for them to pack and move on With a last meal served... The caravans are readied to make another journey long "Gather yourself up gypsy girls Wonderful as it may seem… A gypsies’ life is never their own Time to move on Time to find another home You must have gypsy blood In order to survive" As their wagons move along dusty trails They'll be looking for a place to camp A place to call home... at least for awhile A place to hang their colored paper lamps Until... Suddenly- a cry rings out "Stop the wagons, ring the bells We've found the perfect place The perfect place for magic spells Tomorrow brings a brand new day! Let's feast, dance and make merry Come on let's get things underway" And so... The journey goes on And never ends! "Gather yourself up gypsy girls Wonderful as it may seem… A gypsies’ life is never their own Time to move on, time to leave Time to find another home You must have gypsy blood In order to survive"
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58
There'd only plundering be; If all of us were wolves, No sheep could flee.... Oh, the pirate's life for thee. And the pirate's life for me, And the world were all in flames, And the world were all in flames. If everyone were pirates, Why, villains all we'd be, And every deck-born swab Would glower at you and me With our laces and our kerchiefs, And our killer pirate wigs As we stormed across the continents and seas; As we stormed across the continents and seas. And good men, none, would live their lives, With the gentling help of their good wives; And children, all, would yell and terrorize, Chasing down the nursemaid with the kitchen knives. If everyone were pirates, No farmers, and no fishers on the beach, No bakers, and no soldiers continental, No doctors, and no teachers left to teach, No preachers and no sermons for to preach, But only pirates coming up the streets... But only pirates coming up the streets.
0
Apr 5, 2017
Apr 5, 2017 at 5:21 AM UTC
don-bouchard
If everyone were pirates,
There'd only plundering be; If all of us were wolves, No sheep could flee.... Oh, the pirate's life for thee. And the pirate's life for me, And the world were all in flames, And the world were all in flames. If everyone were pirates, Why, villains all we'd be, And every deck-born swab Would glower at you and me With our laces and our kerchiefs, And our killer pirate wigs As we stormed across the continents and seas; As we stormed across the continents and seas. And good men, none, would live their lives, With the gentling help of their good wives; And children, all, would yell and terrorize, Chasing down the nursemaid with the kitchen knives. If everyone were pirates, No farmers, and no fishers on the beach, No bakers, and no soldiers continental, No doctors, and no teachers left to teach, No preachers and no sermons for to preach, But only pirates coming up the streets... But only pirates coming up the streets.
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26
XL Oh, yes! they love through all this world of ours! I will not gainsay love, called love forsooth. I have heard love talked in my early youth, And since, not so long back but that the flowers Then gathered, smell still. Mussulmans and Giaours Throw kerchiefs at a smile, and have no ruth For any weeping. Polypheme’s white tooth Slips on the nut if, after frequent showers, The shell is over-smooth,—and not so much Will turn the thing called love, aside to hate Or else to oblivion. But thou art not such A lover, my Beloved! thou canst wait Through sorrow and sickness, to bring souls to touch, And think it soon when others cry ‘Too late.’
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1.2k
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Sonnet 40 - Oh, Yes! They Love Through All This World Of Ours!
XL Oh, yes! they love through all this world of ours! I will not gainsay love, called love forsooth. I have heard love talked in my early youth, And since, not so long back but that the flowers Then gathered, smell still. Mussulmans and Giaours Throw kerchiefs at a smile, and have no ruth For any weeping. Polypheme’s white tooth Slips on the nut if, after frequent showers, The shell is over-smooth,—and not so much Will turn the thing called love, aside to hate Or else to oblivion. But thou art not such A lover, my Beloved! thou canst wait Through sorrow and sickness, to bring souls to touch, And think it soon when others cry ‘Too late.’
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15
I locked myself away again hid in a form of a closet bunched between the jackets and moth eaten dresses I closed myself in a drawer between the trinkets and stale kerchiefs and oneday maybe someone a tresure hunter of sorts will sift through the junk to find the broken stained little girl who was once able to look in a mirror and not see every inch of fat every layer of skin as disgusting polish up the jewel to my heart don't sell it though sweetie this ruby gets cracked with the slightest pressure
0
Nov 24, 2013
Nov 24, 2013 at 8:01 AM UTC
maybella-snow
ruby heart
I locked myself away again hid in a form of a closet bunched between the jackets and moth eaten dresses I closed myself in a drawer between the trinkets and stale kerchiefs and oneday maybe someone a tresure hunter of sorts will sift through the junk to find the broken stained little girl who was once able to look in a mirror and not see every inch of fat every layer of skin as disgusting polish up the jewel to my heart don't sell it though sweetie this ruby gets cracked with the slightest pressure
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21
calling IV calling all truck drivers calling all car dealers all scuba divers all potato peelers all mothers all sons all brothers calling all who’ve won all losers, users, and just all perusers of rusty lust calling all criminals all those who’ve tussled and cussed calling all mechanics and all whom, in them, trust calling all politicians for i must beg of ye to see this infinity in we calling all ministers of high finance all fragile tendencies toward your dance with your blossoming children and their salty breezes their blown into kerchiefs and their seizing sneezes seeing you as you carry them toward our unifying dust i hold no ill will toward that soil you till i’ve passed around your notes, your bonds, and your bills i’d thought i’d be one of you ‘til i met a few untils love your children, and love yourself, for they shall carry your ashes into a box upon a shelf that dust behind all wealth calling all foxes, dogs, cats, chickens, and beetles all sages, rosemary, spikes, and needles all wages, incendiaries, wallops, and weebles all pages, all poets all police, all panthers all those battling fires without and within all those atop towers all whom are twins calling all wheels upon all surfaces all of those mired in a sense of worthlessness calling all kings calling all nations calling all jordan’s, americas, and native stations we’re writing too much blood into not enough ground we’ve survived our flood and are forever bound calling brother abel and brother cain father abraham and mother pain you’ve traumatized me from all this blood you’ve lain i see peace in all your eyes blown to pieces in terrorizing replies calling all consumers, producers, unionizers, and managers corporations, and not for profit planners all doctors, nurses, clients, and programmers advertisers, marketers, bloggers, and spammers all engineers of damns, bridges, and destructions those who fell they’re ****** due to their suctions i’ve sensed a fragile beauty in your moistened orbs you all carry i beg of you all to come from love lay down your swords i beg you not tarry come women laying into asphalt come scientists predicting san andreas’ fault come widows, charlatans, and poets of trite all ye poets weeping into ye hands all ye poets of darkness and light perfect light and darkness are myths upon this earth just as perfect black and white are myths spun from history’s dearth
0
Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 7:27 PM UTC
rf-jordan
calling IV
calling IV calling all truck drivers calling all car dealers all scuba divers all potato peelers all mothers all sons all brothers calling all who’ve won all losers, users, and just all perusers of rusty lust calling all criminals all those who’ve tussled and cussed calling all mechanics and all whom, in them, trust calling all politicians for i must beg of ye to see this infinity in we calling all ministers of high finance all fragile tendencies toward your dance with your blossoming children and their salty breezes their blown into kerchiefs and their seizing sneezes seeing you as you carry them toward our unifying dust i hold no ill will toward that soil you till i’ve passed around your notes, your bonds, and your bills i’d thought i’d be one of you ‘til i met a few untils love your children, and love yourself, for they shall carry your ashes into a box upon a shelf that dust behind all wealth calling all foxes, dogs, cats, chickens, and beetles all sages, rosemary, spikes, and needles all wages, incendiaries, wallops, and weebles all pages, all poets all police, all panthers all those battling fires without and within all those atop towers all whom are twins calling all wheels upon all surfaces all of those mired in a sense of worthlessness calling all kings calling all nations calling all jordan’s, americas, and native stations we’re writing too much blood into not enough ground we’ve survived our flood and are forever bound calling brother abel and brother cain father abraham and mother pain you’ve traumatized me from all this blood you’ve lain i see peace in all your eyes blown to pieces in terrorizing replies calling all consumers, producers, unionizers, and managers corporations, and not for profit planners all doctors, nurses, clients, and programmers advertisers, marketers, bloggers, and spammers all engineers of damns, bridges, and destructions those who fell they’re ****** due to their suctions i’ve sensed a fragile beauty in your moistened orbs you all carry i beg of you all to come from love lay down your swords i beg you not tarry come women laying into asphalt come scientists predicting san andreas’ fault come widows, charlatans, and poets of trite all ye poets weeping into ye hands all ye poets of darkness and light perfect light and darkness are myths upon this earth just as perfect black and white are myths spun from history’s dearth
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79
1. Basket of resource books and herbs is in the car. 2. Basket of sewing tools and knitting needles is packed with an item or two to stitch. 3. One cast iron *** is ready to go. Two more in the process of burning off and seasoning. 4. Linen caps and kerchiefs are starched. Clothes are laid out. 5. Pack basket is full of pottery and utensils. Need to ask the woodworker if he will make me a lid and dasher for the butrer churn. 6. Copper kettle is filled with a bag of seasoned walnuts and two tin skilkets. 7. Still working on ingredients for the larder. Storing them in period appropriate containers is a puzzle. 8. Spinning wheel is excited for the new adventure. She said bring plenty of roving.
0
Apr 5, 2016
Apr 5, 2016 at 8:48 PM UTC
emily-burns
to do list - revisited
1. Basket of resource books and herbs is in the car. 2. Basket of sewing tools and knitting needles is packed with an item or two to stitch. 3. One cast iron *** is ready to go. Two more in the process of burning off and seasoning. 4. Linen caps and kerchiefs are starched. Clothes are laid out. 5. Pack basket is full of pottery and utensils. Need to ask the woodworker if he will make me a lid and dasher for the butrer churn. 6. Copper kettle is filled with a bag of seasoned walnuts and two tin skilkets. 7. Still working on ingredients for the larder. Storing them in period appropriate containers is a puzzle. 8. Spinning wheel is excited for the new adventure. She said bring plenty of roving.
Continue reading...
8