"timon" poems
PICTURE and book remain,
An acre of green grass
For air and exercise,
Now strength of body goes;
Midnight, an old house
Where nothing stirs but a mouse.
My temptation is quiet.
Here at life's end
Neither loose imagination,
Nor the mill of the mind
Consuming its rag and bonc,
Can make the truth known.
Grant me an old man's frenzy,
Myself must I remake
Till I am Timon and Lear
Or that William Blake
Who beat upon the wall
Till Truth obeyed his call;
A mind Michael Angelo knew
That can pierce the clouds,
Or inspired by frenzy
Shake the dead in their shrouds;
Forgotten else by mankind,
An old man's eagle mind.
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Long ago there was a Princess
who never did really think about her Prince
she just hoped he was good-looking and kind, and loved her for who she is.
keep her out of trouble, and when they share true loves first kiss
it'll last forever, just like in Disney classics
True love was always in the first kiss shared
that is when the magic happens and sparkles surrounds her in the air
Animals sing as the two of you dance away without a care
and then the screen goes black leaving you with the innuendo that the love will always be there
This princess didn't care when her prince would show up.
Just keep living with all the colors of the wind like Pocahontas, growing up
and I just can't wait to be queen, now where is her real life version of Timon and Pumbaa,
to help her run away from dangerous stuff?
She can't live like Cinderella, cleaning up after all others
and her foot is a common size, because the shoes she wears is sometimes her mother's.
She could cut her hair and go into the military, so that it can make a man out of her
and maybe her reflection would be of her being the fairest and bravest of them all
Instead she'd stand tall
fashioning an escape like Rapunzel
to find her
happily ever after, once and for all
Jan 26, 2014
Jan 26, 2014 at 10:46 PM UTC
Harapin hamon
Layon ng edukasyon
Magsilbing timon
Jul 17, 2016
Jul 17, 2016 at 10:15 AM UTC
--I. M. Edward John Henley (1861-1898)
Where are the passions they essayed,
And where the tears they made to flow?
Where the wild humours they portrayed
For laughing worlds to see and know?
Othello's wrath and Juliet's woe?
Sir Peter's whims and Timon's gall?
And Millamant and Romeo?
Into the night go one and all.
Where are the braveries, fresh or frayed?
The plumes, the armours--friend and foe?
The cloth of gold, the rare brocade,
The mantles glittering to and fro?
The pomp, the pride, the royal show?
The cries of war and festival?
The youth, the grace, the charm, the glow?
Into the night go one and all.
The curtain falls, the play is played:
The Beggar packs beside the Beau;
The Monarch troops, and troops the Maid;
The Thunder huddles with the Snow.
Where are the revellers high and low?
The clashing swords? The lover's call?
The dancers gleaming row on row?
Into the night go one and all.
Envoy
Prince, in one common overthrow
The Hero tumbles with the Thrall:
As dust that drives, as straws that blow,
Into the night go one and all.
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4)
I moved into the woods
built a little cabin, below the rocks
and covered by the trees;
yet I had visitors
who had come astray into the wilderness
Someone wanting space for the night:
“Is there enough room in your cabin?”
“Why,” I said, “there’s plenty all round”
I was vegetarian
but the destitute offered themselves to me -
the religious might say: *God fed me
even in the wilderness!* Ha!
A wandering woman one evening,
she offered love in return
for shelter that night
She let me lick, taste her flesh
“Bite me,” she said
offering a foretaste in our foreplay
Why would they not leave me? –
these wanderers, the intruding world
No, I had not come in like Thoreau
or the Unabomber – but maybe
like the misanthrope Timon of Athens...
afraid of my own hate; but the innocent
seemed to be drawn in as to a...an...abattoir
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 5:11 PM UTC
I remember moving in to my old flat
Down in San Jose
It wasn’t much to look at
But it was all I could afford
I was studying a 6 day degree
Hoping it would get me somewhere
It was only dollar twenty five
In the rag
Because we all sometimes have to pray
For small mercies
I had just paid out for another hidden cost
Turns out there are a lot of them
When you haven’t got much money:
$13.02 to get my room key
Or the landlady hits me over the head with a baseball bat –
That’s how a democracy works, we elect a leader
And then they milk us for all we are worth.
A dictatorship works the same way –
Only they don’t bother with voting.
This hunny came up to me,
Lips that could devour a man
A body so voluptuous
It could make a man go insane.
“Excuse me, there’s no toilet roll in the cubicle.”
**** what small hells we make for each other
Even the cruellest of men should be able to wipe their ***
At times of seeing such beauty
We become all gushing
And promise things that are simply beyond us,
In a hope of being rewarded with a mouthful of beauty
Or even better –
A bed.
So I went downstairs and had a near fatal run-in
With the Jamaican landlady
“You won’t be having no pieces of *** in your flat
I-s can be a-telling you that now!”
I returned with the toilet roll
She puckered her lips
Winked and said she would see to me tomorrow
So the next day I went round and said I had
A bit of ailing at the back of my throat
She turned her nose up and said:
“There’s nothing that could be done for me.”
And with that shut the door.
It is such a shame when such beauty gets prissy
But that is the human condition
The more generous you are
The less generous you can afford to be:
Just ask Timon of Athens.
Nov 11, 2011
Nov 11, 2011 at 4:00 PM UTC
Take a group of chimpanzees
used to swinging through the trees,
and sit them down at keyboards in a row;
lots of paper, lots of ink,
lots and lots of time, I think,
and what the theory says I’m sure you know.
Yes, along with all the junk,
all the gibberish and bunk,
somewhere there’d be the full works of the Bard:
As You Like It, Cymbeline,
Richards 2 and 3, the Dream,
though Hamlet, Prince of Denmark, might be hard.
But I’m sure the little blighters
would get on fine with *Titus
Andronicus*, The Taming of the Shrew,
The Moor of Venice (that’s Othello),
the other Merchant fellow,
and Antony and Cleopatra too.
The Winter’s Tale would hold no terrors,
nor The Comedy of Errors,
and Verona’s Gentlemen would turn out right;
Love’s Labour might be Lost,
or it might be Tempest-tossed,
but All’s Well That Ends Well, even on Twelfth Night.
Lear, King John, and Much Ado,
Henry 4, parts 1 and 2,
Henry 5, and 6 (in three parts), Henry 8,
Troilus, Timon, Measure for Measure,
Pericles (a neglected treasure)
and how Romeo and Juliet met their fate;
all the Sonnets, and the ****
of Lucrece* (typed by an ape!)
and if they worked for ever and a day
they could fit in Julius Caesar,
that Coriolanus geezer,
the Wives of Windsor, and the Scottish play.
I grew more and more excited –
even thought I might be knighted
if I could be the one to make it work.
But to realise my dream
I had to try a pilot scheme,
to prove I wasn’t just a reckless berk.
I bought one chimp from the zoo -
didn't have the cash for two -
and gave him a typewriter, just to try
for a short while. Well, a fortnight
was the time-scale that I thought right.
You see, I’m quite an optimistic guy.
Now everyone who heard
of my project said, “Absurd!”
when I told them of my striking new departure.
“Get a chimpanzee to type
the works of Shakespeare? Oh, what tripe!”
Still … he did produce the works of Jeffrey Archer.
Jan 18, 2016
Jan 18, 2016 at 3:55 PM UTC
My best friend,come with me.
Let us live our fantasy.
Let us fulfil each other pleasures.
My king,
I promise to always be there,
Just like Timon and pumbaa
Your heart, is mine and I will never leave your side.
My love
I won't judge you no matter what,
The door to the past is shut.
They say when one door closes,
A window is opened to smell the roses.
come with me,
I'll show you what its like to be free.
Let's express our love to the world.
The growth of this sensual feeling we share.
Is like platinum it never rust
Just hold my hands and see the world with my eyes.
Our love will never die.
No one can divide us.
For you are my king , my one and only Charming,
These feelings are alarming!
I can't believe I'm falling so hard,
Living on the other side of the earth .way more than a yard.
I'll be here just waiting for your embrace
When we meet face to face.
To feel safe from the world around,
And so we can finally be crowned!
We can walk side by side as King and Queen.
I'll always be your miss tea, your pumbaa and friend in need.
With you I'll always feel so valued.
Tea or queen, I don't care.
Call me anything, as long as I'm your baby.
If paradise is what your looking for, well I got it in me , as long as you are with me , my king.
Aug 5, 2014
Aug 5, 2014 at 6:22 AM UTC
The past can hurt, but I can either accept it or neglect it, and come up with a situation thats never going to be selected by reality,
She hurt me all over, scarred my anatomy,
From the left side of my chest to my abdominal cavity
To save myself all of the agony,
My dreams are where I lay now, with all the cartoons, thats where I stay now
Fruits on a stick being carried by a baboon, and I hope he's teaching this geminaic bafoon
that theres two sides to the moon,
Feel like simba stepping in his fathers paw print, as a vulture waits on my final seconds of coughing, but where are my friends? Timon and pumba to the rescue ;what it might seem, but it all actuality its just a pipe dream,
I have to fend for myself, and when life gets hard I have to pretend for myself,
I dont believe in suicide or bitter ending myself, Im not condeming myself,
Jan 31, 2013
Jan 31, 2013 at 4:41 AM UTC
What comes to mind when they say "Disney"?
All the mysteries and Mickey in my epiphany
Aladdin got stuck in the cave and found the lamp
Huey, Dewey and Louie all are out in a camp
When daffy is about to lose control for daisy
Goofy woke up and walked like if its all hazy
Pluto never knows it has a planet on his name
Still it doesn't leave Mickey even being all lame
When Cinderella lost her shoe and ran away
Rapunzel meanwhile got her hair taken away
Timon said "Hakuna Matata it means no worries"
When Simba found Nala, Timon got insecurities
Peter Pan came from Neverland and saw Wendy
Seeing them fly together in childhood was trendy
Hercules got Meg and showed off his muscles with a wink
Hades made her pawn and Hercules found it was a fling
Canine Superstar Bolt thought he was the real deal
When camera stopped rolling,he began to squeal
Pooh with honey and Christopher on journey
Tigger bounces and Owl pretends to be an attorney
A witch with Poisoned apple got her sleeping
On seeing, the dwarfs couldn't stop weeping
Alice got over her fears
Dumbo got used to his ears
All the Kids got mesmerized by the fun
Its Disney, from which you dont wanna run
Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 2:48 PM UTC
dear mr. president do
you know
timothy & bao
ikram & erhard
puja & timon
folami & leonardo
shannon & kavi
kenzō & shaquille
meklit & aleksej
gabriela & hugo?
they all work hard to
make a living
honor diversity america
has been a great team
Nov 23, 2019
Nov 23, 2019 at 12:22 PM UTC
My RAIN DROP
AS FAR FROM MY HEART
I SEARCH FOR YOU
IN THE DEPTHS OF YOUR LOVE
I WAIT FOR YOU
YOU ADDED A DROP INTO MY HANDS AND ITS HARVEST MY HEART
THE MORE, I SEARCH FOR YOU
THE MORE, YOU SWING INTO MY HEART;OUT OF CONTROL
AM WITHOUT THIRSTY
AND AM WITHOUT RANGE
RANGE IN TIME BUT YOUR RAIN ALWAYS REACH MY CLAIMS
I SET OUT FOR YOUR LOVE
ONLY TO FIND YOUR LOVE , GROWING INSIDE MY HEART AS A BRIDGE ACROSS MY WALLS
WHAT MANNER OF CREATURE ,ARE YOU
THE SOUND OF A THOUSANDS LAUGHTER "IN MY HEART"
AM NOT SHY OF YOUR TERROR IN THE LAND
AS FOR ME , YOUR UNSTABLE SOUNDS CALL FOR US TO LOVE MORE AND MORE
EVEN, WHEN YOU STOP FALLING, YOUR RAIN BROUGHTOUT BRIGHT LIGHT INTO MY EYE'S
THE LITTLE SOUNDS AS YOU FADE AWAY FROM RANGE IS LIKE A RIVER FLOWS WITHIN ME
YOUR LOVE AS WASH ME CLEAN AND YOUR TERROR AS FOUND ME TERSE
YOUR LOVE IS MY RAINDROP.
FB:Timon Timonlibrarynigeria.
Em@il:[email protected]
☎:+2348160963957
Dec 27, 2017
Dec 27, 2017 at 10:44 PM UTC
Take a group of chimpanzees
used to swinging through the trees,
and sit them down at keyboards in a row;
lots of paper, lots of ink,
lots and lots of time, I think,
and what the theory says, I'm sure you know.
Yes, along with all the junk,
all the gibberish and bunk,
somewhere there'd be the full works of the Bard:
As You Like It, Cymbeline,
Richards 2 and 3, the Dream,
though Hamlet, Prince of Denmark might be hard.
But I'm sure the little blighters
would get on fine with *Titus
Andronicus*, The Taming of the Shrew,
The Moor of Venice (that's Othello),
the other Merchant fellow,
and Antony and Cleopatra too.
The Winter's Tale would hold no terrors,
nor The Comedy of Errors,
and Verona's Gentlemen would turn out right;
Love's Labours might be Lost,
or even Tempest-tossed,
but All's Well That Ends Well, even on Twelfth Night.
Lear, King John, and Much Ado,
Henry 4, parts 1 and 2,
Henry 5, and 6 (in three parts!), Henry 8,
Troilus, Timon, Measure for Measure,
Pericles (a neglected treasure),
and how Romeo and Juliet met their fate.
All the Sonnets and the ****
of Lucrece* (typed by an ape!),
and if they worked for ever and a day
they could fit in Julius Caesar,
that Coriolanus geezer,
the Wives of Windsor and the Scottish play.
I grew more and more excited ‒
even thought I might be knighted
if I could be the one to make it work.
But to realise my dream
I had to try a pilot scheme,
to prove I wasn't just a reckless berk.
I bought one chimp from the zoo
‒ didn't have the cash for two ‒
and gave him a typewriter, just to try
for a short while. Well, a fortnight
was the time-scale that I thought right.
You see, I'm quite an optimistic guy.
Now, everyone who heard
of my project said, "Absurd!"
when I told them of my striking new departure.
"Teach a chimpanzee to type?
"Why, I never heard such tripe!"
Still . . . he did produce the works of Jeffrey Archer.
Aug 12, 2019
Aug 12, 2019 at 8:39 AM UTC