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"outlives" poems
Piteous my rhyme is What while I muse of love and pain, Of love misspent, of love in vain, Of love that is not loved again: And is this all then? As long as time is, Love loveth. Time is but a span, The dalliance space of dying man: And is this all immortals can? The gain were small then. Love loves for ever, And finds a sort of joy in pain, And gives with nought to take again, And loves too well to end in vain: Is the gain small then? Love laughs at "never", Outlives our life, exceeds the span Appointed to mere mortal man: All which love is and does and can Is all in all then.
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Piteous My Rhyme
# *Not all was lost to the beast, nor to the silence that sheltered it. For deeper still, beneath the rubble of unspoken years, the child remained. Bruised, yes.. but not extinguished. Hidden; but not erased. A breath still moved, a spark unclaimed by the darkness. The beast does not feed  only on the wound itself, but on the hollow it leaves behind. Gaslighting, scapegoating, silence.. all these are its masons; carving out a chamber in the soul where the beast makes its abode. There, in the aloneness of the child, it feeds from within, claiming the silence as its fortress; the emptiness as its throne. And the door creaks again.. not always the first door,    but another.. a new figure cashing in on the void they sense. Their entry feels like company,    even love, yet it is only continuance... a repetition of the first harm. Worse still when the creak is painted with a smile, when exploitation wears the mask of care--    The abode deepens,     and the beast settles further    into the soul. Yet the fortress cannot hold forever. The silence cannot smother forever. Even the grave-dirt of denial cannot bury it whole. For the child endures where walls collapse, and the smallest cry outlives the loudest lie. The beast devoured much, but not all. And in what survives, the future breathes; a testimony, a beginning,     a voice     that will not be hushed.* #
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Sep 2, 2025
Sep 2, 2025 at 3:44 PM UTC
The Child
I sat beneath a willow tree, Where water falls and calls; While fancies upon fancies solaced me, Some true, and some were false. Who set their heart upon a hope That never comes to pass, Droop in the end like fading heliotrope, The sun's wan looking-glass. Who set their will upon a whim Clung to through good and ill, Are wrecked alike whether they sink or swim, Or hit or miss their will. All things are vain that wax and wane, For which we waste our breath; Love only doth not wane and is not vain, Love only outlives death. A singing lark rose toward the sky, Circling he sang amain; He sang, a speck scarce visible sky-high, And then he sank again. A second like a sunlit spark Flashed singing up his track; But never overtook that foremost lark, And songless fluttered back. A hovering melody of birds Haunted the air above; They clearly sang contentment without words, And youth and joy and love. O silvery weeping willow tree With all leaves shivering, Have you no purpose but to shadow me Beside this rippled spring? On this first fleeting day of Spring, For Winter is gone by, And every bird on every quivering wing Floats in a sunny sky; On this first Summer-like soft day, While sunshine steeps the air, And every cloud has gat itself away, And birds sing everywhere. Have you no purpose in the world But thus to shadow me With all your tender drooping twigs unfurled, O weeping willow tree? With all your tremulous leaves outspread Betwixt me and the sun, While here I loiter on a mossy bed With half my work undone; My work undone, that should be done At once with all my might; For after the long day and lingering sun Comes the unworking night. This day is lapsing on its way, Is lapsing out of sight; And after all the chances of the day Comes the resourceless night. The weeping-willow shook its head And stretched its shadow long; The west grew crimson, the sun smouldered red, The birds forbore a song. Slow wind sighed through the willow leaves, The ripple made a moan, The world drooped murmuring like a thing that grieves; And then I felt alone. I rose to go, and felt the chill, And shivered as I went; Yet shivering wondered, and I wonder still, What more that willow meant; That silvery weeping-willow tree With all leaves shivering, Which spent one long day overshadowing me Beside a spring in Spring.
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In The Willow Shade
I sat beneath a willow tree, Where water falls and calls; While fancies upon fancies solaced me, Some true, and some were false. Who set their heart upon a hope That never comes to pass, Droop in the end like fading heliotrope, The sun's wan looking-glass. Who set their will upon a whim Clung to through good and ill, Are wrecked alike whether they sink or swim, Or hit or miss their will. All things are vain that wax and wane, For which we waste our breath; Love only doth not wane and is not vain, Love only outlives death. A singing lark rose toward the sky, Circling he sang amain; He sang, a speck scarce visible sky-high, And then he sank again. A second like a sunlit spark Flashed singing up his track; But never overtook that foremost lark, And songless fluttered back. A hovering melody of birds Haunted the air above; They clearly sang contentment without words, And youth and joy and love. O silvery weeping willow tree With all leaves shivering, Have you no purpose but to shadow me Beside this rippled spring? On this first fleeting day of Spring, For Winter is gone by, And every bird on every quivering wing Floats in a sunny sky; On this first Summer-like soft day, While sunshine steeps the air, And every cloud has gat itself away, And birds sing everywhere. Have you no purpose in the world But thus to shadow me With all your tender drooping twigs unfurled, O weeping willow tree? With all your tremulous leaves outspread Betwixt me and the sun, While here I loiter on a mossy bed With half my work undone; My work undone, that should be done At once with all my might; For after the long day and lingering sun Comes the unworking night. This day is lapsing on its way, Is lapsing out of sight; And after all the chances of the day Comes the resourceless night. The weeping-willow shook its head And stretched its shadow long; The west grew crimson, the sun smouldered red, The birds forbore a song. Slow wind sighed through the willow leaves, The ripple made a moan, The world drooped murmuring like a thing that grieves; And then I felt alone. I rose to go, and felt the chill, And shivered as I went; Yet shivering wondered, and I wonder still, What more that willow meant; That silvery weeping-willow tree With all leaves shivering, Which spent one long day overshadowing me Beside a spring in Spring.
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72
Sunset whispers to itself ~No time outlives time~ The meltemi winds crackle the wild millet, Graze-feed upon the stalks of Greek plains, The pelican scoops up the honeyed Aegean, Waves of sunlit anise and almond in refrain, Vestigial as the sweet persimmon from Egypt, The hammered warmth from the flat anvil of Africa, Sunset whispers to itself ~No time outlives time~
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Aug 27, 2020
Aug 27, 2020 at 7:43 PM UTC
Sunset Whispers to Itself
Life throws storms I grieve, then stay. Anger flares, loyalty remains. A million miles won't break this thread. Block me, **** me I'm still yours. Absence cannot erase our bond. Life is brief; love outlives it. I'll chase your smile through every time. If not here, I'll find you next. My vow endures beyond all ends.
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Sep 12, 2025
Sep 12, 2025 at 11:20 AM UTC
Unfading Vow
~ her wishes she guards, like every beat of her heart; and plans too far off she easily discards. they offer comfort, no cure, t'is the best they can find; she calls it quality assured, takes it one day at a time. tomorrow a hope, next week is a prayer; living forward with foresight, she's had years to prepare. unfettered by limits, her mind now unchained; free from constraints, she's gained... far and away! with joy she embraces every hour she outlives, with nothing to lose she has everything to give! each night gives her sleep, rest reserved for the brave, her future she's glimpsed, she lives free... unafraid! ~ *post script. this one feels undone, and yet i have nothing more on the subject.  i suppose it just means the end, like life, remains unknown... unwritten.   Memorial Day brings with it a somber hush; a reminder of sacrifices past... a realization of more to come.  as i have written here before, none of us gets out of here without any scars; and though we are living longer today than at any time previous in history, the mortality rate still stands firmly... almost resolutely... at one hundred percent!  this then begs a question- would i live differently, if i knew just how numbered my days were... and what keeps me from living that way today?*
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May 30, 2016
May 30, 2016 at 11:39 AM UTC
unafraid
My brain has been cursed, you can now see, The voices and screams are tearing at me, Her fight at the tower, A vertical hell, She climbs over bodies, drenched in their smell, This pain it seems endless, You forget how to think, Your heart has been pierced Your strength seems to shrink, Yet she fights and she fights for a better life, She slices her demons, she outlives her strife, The question now is, where is her heart? It was grabbed by his hand at the very start. Now she begs for it’s safe return, But when she receives it, She sees it’s been burned. Forever branded with his powerful name, He tossed one more trick, Into his sick little game. She cries to the heavens, For just one more chance. Like a deathly tango, A murderous dance. Yet she can not go, Back to the start, She can never ever, Reclaim her lost heart.
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Jan 31, 2020
Jan 31, 2020 at 8:00 AM UTC
Senua (2019)
Reality has spun its web, Beneath the indifferent moon, And as the ocean tides sigh and ebb, It catches life- too soon. Time has cast her heavy net Upon the vacant skies Begging dawn to ne'er forget The sunsets slow demise. Oh, fallen stars, don't fail me now Your glow outlives your light. Bear no sweat upon your brow, For your death  is lost at night. The sweetest eulogy does sound Against the hollow space That pushes the moon round and round, Casting shadows 'cross my face.
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Apr 16, 2013
Apr 16, 2013 at 3:36 AM UTC
Light years
*I can be a star that shines through your night and day a painting that sticks on the feathery canvas the radar to your ship, the enduring campus the words that are so difficult to say I can be the one leaf in windy seasons that never falls but sticks with you till the very moment eternity calls the beautiful melody that never ceases to sing the serene filled drone which may never sting I can be the careful and graceful bird that never perches the unnoticed but concerned eye that always watches the willing helping hand in your times of need the much desired friend in need,a friend in deed I can be every joyful and melancholic poem you've ever read a roseate flower whose frail petals never fade the green thick dense canopy to always bring you shade the one who makes your twisted world a better place I can be wide spectral smiles to colour your love locked face A friend against foes, a kiss on your cheek, Or a secret in your palm to hold you whenever you're weak I can be more than just a phone call and text a mechanic who gets the wreck of your broken Heart fixed Or lifeless images of glowing eyes and tearful emotions, and the eternal rivers of hope flowing within to Oceans I can invent the technology to teleport you here be the keeper who whispers sweet somethings in your ear the destiny you've always wanted to have I can make that dream lad you've always wanted to love if only you give me a chance,and to the rhythm of life rise to dance walk barefooted through thorns, I can take the bull by his horns I can be the Madonna whose bloom conquers all seasons and outlives eternity if only you understand my reasons*
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Apr 18, 2016
Apr 18, 2016 at 5:48 PM UTC
Love Me,You Will Prove
*I can be a star that shines through your night and day a painting that sticks on the feathery canvas the radar to your ship, the enduring campus the words that are so difficult to say I can be the one leaf in windy seasons that never falls but sticks with you till the very moment eternity calls the beautiful melody that never ceases to sing the serene filled drone which may never sting I can be the careful and graceful bird that never perches the unnoticed but concerned eye that always watches the willing helping hand in your times of need the much desired friend in need,a friend in deed I can be every joyful and melancholic poem you've ever read a roseate flower whose frail petals never fade the green thick dense canopy to always bring you shade the one who makes your twisted world a better place I can be wide spectral smiles to colour your love locked face A friend against foes, a kiss on your cheek, Or a secret in your palm to hold you whenever you're weak I can be more than just a phone call and text a mechanic who gets the wreck of your broken Heart fixed Or lifeless images of glowing eyes and tearful emotions, and the eternal rivers of hope flowing within to Oceans I can invent the technology to teleport you here be the keeper who whispers sweet somethings in your ear the destiny you've always wanted to have I can make that dream lad you've always wanted to love if only you give me a chance,and to the rhythm of life rise to dance walk barefooted through thorns, I can take the bull by his horns I can be the Madonna whose bloom conquers all seasons and outlives eternity if only you understand my reasons*
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31
The body rarely appreciates, So however we treat it, Eventually it depreciates. The soul, If we give to it, Will grow, Its glow is eternal. Beautify the soul, They way you would the body and even more, Afterall its the inside that reflects on the outside.
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Jun 23, 2016
Jun 23, 2016 at 7:58 AM UTC
The soul outlives the body,treat it right,follow your conscience
tell me it's for my own good sell it to me like a god **** vacuum cleaner peddle it, baby knock on my door and sell me cheap romance: a product that always just slightly outlives its warranty. tell me that you loved me you really, really did but there are no refunds and for three easy payments of anguish, time, and torment you were mine, mine, mine: what a deal! tell me it's for my own good when you break down early i'll get my money back and take it gambling where the odds are better. it's just like you said just like you said it would be in fact the only guarantee i was given hidden not-so-plainly in the fine print. I'll invest in something else and you can keep your broken promises.
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Aug 30, 2015
Aug 30, 2015 at 2:16 PM UTC
The Covenant of Warranty and other things
Respect yourself enough to see that Unlike where your heart may lead, No woman should date a child. Remember, new love will taste sweet Until his comfort outlives his care, and No woman should make him try. Realize the vast potential he has Understand the man he soon may be, but No woman should make him grow Raising men is for mothers, not lovers, and Ungrown things need space and time Now a woman should let him go. |b.g.|
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Apr 22, 2017
Apr 22, 2017 at 1:27 PM UTC
To the woman he claims to love next:
Let love be performed, as required. 
Let desire flow, as it will. Let excitement mount, as it must. 
Let synchronized pleasure commence. 
Let the hydraulic imperative be obeyed! 
Now is the moment of peak sensation. 

Let rhyme be used where it helps. 
Let rhythm bounce when it can. 
Let words speak to the heart.
 Let form magnify sense. 
Let the poem take flight! 
Now is the moment of inspiration. 

Let love grow stronger with age. 
Let friends share our happiness. 
Let thought guide us to wisdom.
 Let our children be our epitaphs. 
Let life be savored. 
Now is a moment of reflection. But ... ... Affection outlives passion. ... A good poem needs time to be born. ... Life might not ever make its meaning manifest. Now is a moment of partial understanding.
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May 20, 2012
May 20, 2012 at 3:05 PM UTC
A moment of your time
Maybe crazy is all but sane, but they lie to keep you, to tame your brain. But spirit belongs not to this place, it outlives body, it has no face. So while you dwell upon the earth, I urge you discover your intrinsic worth. For when we tap into our all, never again by flesh we fall. So ask the questions and seek what’s true, take a swim in your deepest blue. In deepest blue when you find you, on earth you’ll know what’s false and true.
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Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 1:54 PM UTC
CRAZY
Whence come ye, so wild and so fleet, For sandals of lightning are on your feet, And your wings are soft and swift as thought, And your eyes are as love which is veiled not. We come from the mind, Of humankind, Which was late, so dusk and obscene and blind. Now, 'tis an ocean, Of clear emotion A heaven of serene and mighty emotion From the dim recesses, Of woven caresses, Where lovers catch ye by your loose tresses, From azure isles, Where sweet wisdom smiles, Delaying your ships with their siren smiles. We waded and flew And the islets were few Where the bud-blighted flowers of happiness grew, Our spoil is won Our task is done, We are free to dive, or soar, or run, Beyond and around, Or within the bound, Which clips the world with darkness around The joy, the triumph, the delight, the madness, The boundless, overflowing, bursting gladness, The vaporous exultation not to be confined, Ha! Ha! the animation of delight. Which wraps me like an atmosphere of light And bears me as a cloud is borne by its own wind As the dissolving warmth of dawn may fold, A half-unfrozen dew-globe, green and gold And crystalline, till it becomes a winged mist, And wanders up the vault of the blue day, Outlives the noon, and on the sun's last ray, Hangs over the sea, a fleece of fire and amethyst
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May 21, 2018
May 21, 2018 at 6:36 AM UTC
Excerpt From Prometheus Unbound
Eschewing that second thought, let me tell you what I truly sought come, lock me up in your heart you, I've no doubt  is a true despot I don't hold back, life is way too short can't heckle and haggle like an idiot on the planes, see  profligacy of robust water hills are in the reign of wild sun and winds Here ends the vast fields of ripened  rice, where prowl crooked foxes eyeing hens, on the foot hills furious bisons flare nostrils, as you climb,eager leopard smells blood. Love is the  fragrance  that outlives the flower, my trek to the mystic mountain continues where **** and shroom grow tangled  everywhere the trek to the love hill, to strike  gold,is in progress,
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Mar 31, 2017
Mar 31, 2017 at 3:39 PM UTC
An ascend to the love mountain
We're living a Dangerous Life, tiptoeing on the Edge of a Knife. What will come and take you in The End? Will it come from Behind Or from Around the Next Bend? Are We Here, Really Here Now? ... The Everpresent Present The Eternal, The Undifferentiated, dao ... The Way of the Eagle The Way of the Sun The Way of the sweat of the Toiling One. The Way of the World, The Way of The Track, The Way of the Scorpion who rode                                                     the Frog's back... The Ways of Old We've left Behind                           The Ways of New We must   Now design... The Laws of the Jungle And the Laws of Gods and Men. The Laws of Those Whose Land We're In. The Laws of Physics and The Laws of Time.                    The laws of lawyers and                                                       of Organized   Crime. The Uncaused Cause,                                    ...                                     And                                  The Uneffected Effect. The Unpolished Flaws, And the Unfinished Project. The Unwritten Rules and The Unspoken Code. The Unwitting Fools and The Untraveled Road. The Final Frontier, And the Promise it gives... The Things We Create and the Life That Outlives... The Dawn of the Century, The Dusk of Mankind. The birth of Something New, Of a limitless Mind                                                                              Or is it really New? Or was It done before? And who is the Ultimate Authority                           on the Universe's lore? And is Novelty all that we aim to adore? What about the Nothingness that came from Before? Did it have some Great Big Colorful Blob to explore? Did We sunder the Stasis forevermore? ... Is there One God, or an Infinitude? ... What does it mean to Truly Be "The Dude?" Or Maybe the Many make up the One, And from the One All Things flow? ... Have these Thoughts been Thought before? How am I to know? And How about We Just Be Good to Each Other And Help Each Other grow?
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Feb 14, 2022
Feb 14, 2022 at 11:17 AM UTC
Something New And Or Old
We're living a Dangerous Life, tiptoeing on the Edge of a Knife. What will come and take you in The End? Will it come from Behind Or from Around the Next Bend? Are We Here, Really Here Now? ... The Everpresent Present The Eternal, The Undifferentiated, dao ... The Way of the Eagle The Way of the Sun The Way of the sweat of the Toiling One. The Way of the World, The Way of The Track, The Way of the Scorpion who rode                                                     the Frog's back... The Ways of Old We've left Behind                           The Ways of New We must   Now design... The Laws of the Jungle And the Laws of Gods and Men. The Laws of Those Whose Land We're In. The Laws of Physics and The Laws of Time.                    The laws of lawyers and                                                       of Organized   Crime. The Uncaused Cause,                                    ...                                     And                                  The Uneffected Effect. The Unpolished Flaws, And the Unfinished Project. The Unwritten Rules and The Unspoken Code. The Unwitting Fools and The Untraveled Road. The Final Frontier, And the Promise it gives... The Things We Create and the Life That Outlives... The Dawn of the Century, The Dusk of Mankind. The birth of Something New, Of a limitless Mind                                                                              Or is it really New? Or was It done before? And who is the Ultimate Authority                           on the Universe's lore? And is Novelty all that we aim to adore? What about the Nothingness that came from Before? Did it have some Great Big Colorful Blob to explore? Did We sunder the Stasis forevermore? ... Is there One God, or an Infinitude? ... What does it mean to Truly Be "The Dude?" Or Maybe the Many make up the One, And from the One All Things flow? ... Have these Thoughts been Thought before? How am I to know? And How about We Just Be Good to Each Other And Help Each Other grow?
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83
(PART I) My heart aged quickly Much faster Than my face lets to see. Pumped with deceit By things and many Stabbed and asked to heal Perpetually. If there is such a power As to completely recover A lesson I never learned; Because regardless Of how well it survived, The finishing line A heart in pieces Already from the start. Back to square one The heart has won Matured a couple of years A thousand with every tear. The heart grows older Each time it starts over The heart gets wrinkles That no night cream Can meddle; I move with a cane Taken the ability To love without restrain. (PART II) But every time I am done I bethink myself of The time I was young When I believed Without seeing When I knew Only by imagining. With every life experience The heart has catered Faith Always seems To pull me back in And this ancient heart Runs back to that route On the verge of innocence When the heart's skin Was still so thin; Not hardened Nor overshadowed And eyes still sparkling. I do not mind getting older As long as I get wiser And the lesson Withstanding alone With every heartache A heart doubling its age The heart that still tries This heart that is willing To always begin a new life Is twelve years old again. And when my body Will slow down And my hair Is no longer brown I will love as long as I live Leaving behind what outlives; For nothing is as hard Nothing more enriching Than staying young at heart.
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Sep 27, 2012
Sep 27, 2012 at 3:25 PM UTC
Young heart
If we are mark’d to die, we are enow     To do our country loss; and if to live     The fewer men, the greater share of honour.     God’s will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.     By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,     Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;     It yearns me not if men my garments wear;     Such outward things dwell not in my desires:     But if it be a sin to covet honour,     I am the most offending soul alive.     No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England:     God’s peace! I would not lose so great an honour     As one man more, methinks, would share from me     For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more!     Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,     That he which hath no stomach to this fight,     Let him depart; his passport shall be made     And crowns for convoy put into his purse:     We would not die in that man’s company     That fears his fellowship to die with us.     This day is call’d the feast of Crispian:     He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,     Will stand a tip-toe when this day is named,     And rouse him at the name of Crispian.     He that shall live this day, and see old age,     Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbors,     And say ‘Tomorrow is Saint Crispian:’     Then he will strip his sleeve and show his scars,     And say ‘These wounds I had on Crispin’s day.’     Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot,     But he’ll remember with advantages     What feats he did that day: then shall our names     Familiar in his mouth as household words:     Harry the king, Bedford and Exeter,     Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,     Be in their flowing cups freshly remember’d,     This story shall the good man teach his son;     And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by,     From this day to the ending of the world,     But we in it shall be remembered;     We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;     For he to-day that sheds his blood with me     Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,     This day shall gentle his condition:     And gentlemen in England now abed     Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,     And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks     That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.
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May 30, 2022
May 30, 2022 at 9:36 AM UTC
St. Crispin’s Day By William Shakespeare
If we are mark’d to die, we are enow     To do our country loss; and if to live     The fewer men, the greater share of honour.     God’s will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.     By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,     Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;     It yearns me not if men my garments wear;     Such outward things dwell not in my desires:     But if it be a sin to covet honour,     I am the most offending soul alive.     No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England:     God’s peace! I would not lose so great an honour     As one man more, methinks, would share from me     For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more!     Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,     That he which hath no stomach to this fight,     Let him depart; his passport shall be made     And crowns for convoy put into his purse:     We would not die in that man’s company     That fears his fellowship to die with us.     This day is call’d the feast of Crispian:     He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,     Will stand a tip-toe when this day is named,     And rouse him at the name of Crispian.     He that shall live this day, and see old age,     Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbors,     And say ‘Tomorrow is Saint Crispian:’     Then he will strip his sleeve and show his scars,     And say ‘These wounds I had on Crispin’s day.’     Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot,     But he’ll remember with advantages     What feats he did that day: then shall our names     Familiar in his mouth as household words:     Harry the king, Bedford and Exeter,     Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,     Be in their flowing cups freshly remember’d,     This story shall the good man teach his son;     And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by,     From this day to the ending of the world,     But we in it shall be remembered;     We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;     For he to-day that sheds his blood with me     Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,     This day shall gentle his condition:     And gentlemen in England now abed     Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,     And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks     That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.
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48
I wish you would stay awake tonight , But your Eyelids bear the burden of your past , And your Eyelashes are anchored to caskets heavy , With logs of unburnt memories , Logs fit for the pyre of your past , That you chose to maroon on uninhabited shores. I wish you would stay awake tonight , And watch me burn myself at the pyres of your past , And keep you warm enough to outlive this winter, And every winter destined to come , And dream of a tomorrow, Unstained by the poison spilt last night. I wish you would stay awake tonight , And let me gaze away at those stormy eyes , Which unlike mere spheres of crystal beads , Mirror the memories that lurk , Beneath a veil, well woven with lies , And spun out of strands of false felicity, I wish you would stay awake tonight , And sing me a different song each hour , Till your song outlives the eternal force , That rolls the wayward wheel of time , I wish you would stay awake tonight, But then , I know you won’t .
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Dec 25, 2014
Dec 25, 2014 at 1:11 AM UTC
I Wish .
the inexorable finality of time that outlives us all clutches at exaggerations that would conform to pretentious intentions and succeed in consummating an accentuated design of limitless flaws
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Nov 13, 2012
Nov 13, 2012 at 1:30 PM UTC
Human Being
“To love is to tenderly dig into someone’s mind: His or her heart and soul to forever find! Care and carry compassionately in storms and in winds To love is to find an eternal peace in the one that you lovingly abides Love is to find a familiar ground that two forever binds! Love is the joy shared by two that in this journey, true rides! In love are routes rough, in love are ways tough, in love are rails-grids that grinds Though, in love are determined souls that never part but remains set in strong stands” A kiss is a stamp of love To feel your breath warmth in mine An emboss, an assurance of love Our staring gaze, the stupors for each other’s sight Is a language stronger than words-written or verbal Understood only by two fools honestly hungry for each other The beauty and peace of your voice Candidly meaning your saying that you love me alone forever Is an indelible engrave of our love Music, a sweet sacred hymn to my soul Like a piper’s pious pipe, it is a song to my ears A solemn instrumental, sentimental to my heart To hear the heart beat of your heart In the strong embraces of your arms It’s a stigmata to our love, there to be binding forever! An umbilical cord strapping us together end-ever To listen to the whispers of your soul in our feelings and flows To feel the silences of your heart in our emotions and elations Is to be entangled in eternal love, to be chained in forever love You are mine, there is no way I will let you go! I will fight for you, I will care for you! I will love you forever and ever for our love is forever I will love you beyond any Heaven's heights or Earth's extents Now in its extant and ever even when we are lost extinct We will watch the earth form and deform together Nature, magnificently make and despondently delete together forever Together we will quietly listen to the melodic music of the universe forever When the sun sad burns, I will be your shade When storms rage havoc, I will be your shelter And when the rains pound, I will still be your umbrella When lightening rudely strikes and thunders raucously scares I will still be there besides to care, your scares to cure When snows severely fall, I will be your oven, kiln warmth When summer and springs sweet sings, I will be your mild melody And when autumns dull comes, I will be the joy to raise your moistened moods To who do you owe your heart to? To you I owe my heart In my heart is my all-my soul, it that outlives me-dust! Keep compassionate care of my spirit, until I returns-compost! © Kìùra Kabiri. All rights reserved.
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Mar 25, 2017
Mar 25, 2017 at 3:50 AM UTC
LOVE FOREVER
“To love is to tenderly dig into someone’s mind: His or her heart and soul to forever find! Care and carry compassionately in storms and in winds To love is to find an eternal peace in the one that you lovingly abides Love is to find a familiar ground that two forever binds! Love is the joy shared by two that in this journey, true rides! In love are routes rough, in love are ways tough, in love are rails-grids that grinds Though, in love are determined souls that never part but remains set in strong stands” A kiss is a stamp of love To feel your breath warmth in mine An emboss, an assurance of love Our staring gaze, the stupors for each other’s sight Is a language stronger than words-written or verbal Understood only by two fools honestly hungry for each other The beauty and peace of your voice Candidly meaning your saying that you love me alone forever Is an indelible engrave of our love Music, a sweet sacred hymn to my soul Like a piper’s pious pipe, it is a song to my ears A solemn instrumental, sentimental to my heart To hear the heart beat of your heart In the strong embraces of your arms It’s a stigmata to our love, there to be binding forever! An umbilical cord strapping us together end-ever To listen to the whispers of your soul in our feelings and flows To feel the silences of your heart in our emotions and elations Is to be entangled in eternal love, to be chained in forever love You are mine, there is no way I will let you go! I will fight for you, I will care for you! I will love you forever and ever for our love is forever I will love you beyond any Heaven's heights or Earth's extents Now in its extant and ever even when we are lost extinct We will watch the earth form and deform together Nature, magnificently make and despondently delete together forever Together we will quietly listen to the melodic music of the universe forever When the sun sad burns, I will be your shade When storms rage havoc, I will be your shelter And when the rains pound, I will still be your umbrella When lightening rudely strikes and thunders raucously scares I will still be there besides to care, your scares to cure When snows severely fall, I will be your oven, kiln warmth When summer and springs sweet sings, I will be your mild melody And when autumns dull comes, I will be the joy to raise your moistened moods To who do you owe your heart to? To you I owe my heart In my heart is my all-my soul, it that outlives me-dust! Keep compassionate care of my spirit, until I returns-compost! © Kìùra Kabiri. All rights reserved.
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