The ship rocks
and I start to lose my grip
it dips and dives into the sea
and I start to slip
The raging water slaps my face
and I fall within the waves
I may die,but I'll die with grace.

Her face flinches with pain
as she cuts her own skin
At least the cut on her arm
dulls the turmoil within
She cant recall when
the agony got this bad
She cant even remember
when she started this fad
They dont realize
the anguish she holds inside
They cant seem to help her
no matter how hard they've tried
Pretty soon she'll reach the ledge
pretty soon,she'll fall over the edge.

Hey my rhymes are not offensive!They come from tha streets you know...me and my bros.
Street power...this ain't offensive it's raw it's in tha veins,do ya know what I mean?

Poems Of William Blake
By William Blake
 
Tiger, The
Tiger, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?
And what shoulder and what art
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And, when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand and what dread feet?
What the hammer? What the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? What dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
When the stars threw down their spears,
And water`d heaven with their tears,
Did He smile His work to see?
Did He who made the lamb make thee?
Tiger, tiger, burning bright,
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
 
In the sincere hope that Blake does not leap out of his grave and sue Brainking

THE TRUE SUFI

What makes the Sufi? Purity of heart;
Not the patched mantle and the lust perverse
Of those vile earth-bound men who steal his name.
He in all dregs discerns the essence pure:
In hardship ease, in tribulation joy.
The phantom sentries, who with batons drawn
Guard Beauty's place-gate and curtained bower,
Give way before him, unafraid he passes,
And showing the King's arrow, enters in.

By Rumi

Blow, blow, thou winter wind,
Thou art not so unkind
As man's ingratitude;
Thy tooth is not so keen
Because thou art not seen,
Although thy breath be rude.
Heigh-ho! sing heigh-ho! unto the green holly:
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly:
Then, heigh-ho! the holly!
This life is most jolly.

Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,
Thou dost not bite so nigh
As benefits forgot:
Though thou the waters warp,
Thy sting is not so sharp
As friend remember'd not.
Heigh-ho! sing heigh-ho! unto the green holly:
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly:
Then, heigh-ho! the holly!
This life is most jolly.


Poem lyrics of Blow, Blow, Thou Winter Wind by Shakespeare.

A look at America's past,
seventeen syllables and
three lines at a time.
By Spike Gallespie

Big Bang or maybe
six days of work, one of rest.
Somehow, it begins.

Dinosaurs tromp tromp,
act tough, then dies so Spielberg
can win more Oscars.

Homo erectus
is Mr. Smarty No Pants:
plays with fire, makes tools.

Ice Age arrives and
prompts Homo sapiens to
start wearing some clothes.

Hunt, gather? Why? This
is the dawning of the Age
of Agrarius.

There's no place like Rome.
A salad of Caesars tossed
aside by the Goths.

Gutenberg printing
thrills all the writer types with
a moveable feat.

Fourteen ninety-two:
Chris Columbus breaks ground for
the first McDonald's.

Colonists unite.
Boston tea fling leads sun to
set on British flag.

Industry arrives.
It's electric. It's steamy.
We are humming now.

Eighteen sixty-one:
divided we fall. Able
Lincoln unites us.

One World War follows
another. Rosie rivets.
Patton rolls. We win.

Russia leads space race.
So? They get Sputnik but we
get Elvis Presley.

Alphabet of strength:
MLK, JFK, X
spelling civil rights.

Sixties. Some drafted.
Some protest. Some seek flower
power in the Haight.

John Travolta is
disco dance personified.
(What WERE we thinking?)

Internet arrives.
You have mail! How did we find
things before Google?

The young dot-wealthy
kiss hubris 'bye: bubble bursts.
Can't cash laughingstocks.

A pair of Bushes
are planted at the White House,
make Clinton sandwich.

Crisis speak thy name.
First Saddam. Then Monica.
Then Saddam, again.

The Twin Towers fall.
Sorrow, anger and pride rise
up from the ashes.

Soaring Angels prove
in spite of the strength of Bonds
Giants sometimes fall.

Wellstone departs so
suddenly. Dems rally but
Mondale not the Norm.

GOP poll vaults
over midterm elections,
showing Dems da brakes.

Struggle to Release



Don't try and save me

I just want you to see

Alone in this fight

Struggle as I might

Locked inside

Must always hide



Keep away the pain

My loss and your gain

It's not a game

My secret shame

Bleeding skin

I did it again



Razor in hand

I take my stand

Relief you will bring

With a little sting

Crimson red you will flow

As I watch the puddle grow

Useless Bravery
J. M. Vargas
When He is alone,
He has enough bravery
To equal an army's.
But when He is with Her,
All the bravery yields to cowardice.
He hides his true feelings
Behind facade hidden behind facade,
When He is with Her.
Why hide your true feelings?
He does not know the answer.
Why the facades? This He knows:
To hide an easily scarred
And punctured heart.
He thinks his feelings
Are his weaknes:
His Achilles Heel.
How unfortunate, He doesn't understand.
His feelings can be his strength.
When She leaves Him,
A part of Him is torn apart.
Yet He does nothing
To ease his pain.
And in the end,
When Hs is alone,
All his bravery is useless.

What qualifies a poet as being 'not known' ? Not known by whom ? That bit is a tad confusing...

gekrompen hoofd: If you find a poem that has the words "Author Unknown" (meaning no one knows who wrote it) you may post it adding "Author Unknown" in place of the Author's name.

Stardust: Ahhhh, you should add that in the rules, so it's super clear :)

gekrompen hoofd: Thank you for your input I'll keep it under advisement

Stardust: *does the extra special Rimmer salute, for the extra special importance!*

Here's a little poem I'd like to dedicate to all the wonderful people at BrainKing.com...



If I told you what it takes
to reach the highest high,
You'd laugh and say 'nothing's that simple'

But you've been told many times before
Messiahs pointed to the door
And no one had the guts to leave the temple!

I'm Free - I'm Free
And Freedom tastes of Reality
I'm Free - I'm Free
And I'm waiting for You to follow me...

gekrompen hoofd: I believe you neglected to post the author along with those Lyrics? (The Who)

Can I post my busta-gansta-street rhymes oi?

Bruno Jesus: You can,keeping the fact that this is a public board on a family site. If you're not sure what is or is not acceptable think of yourself as being in a room with people of all age,race and nationality.

Yep Bruno, you will feel confortable in that room...

Oh yeah...busta-rhymes coming out yo...street like!

 
 
 

She draiglet a' her petticoatie
Coming thro' the rye.

O, Jenny's a' wat, poor body;
Jenny's seldom dry;
She draiglet a' her petticoatie
Coming thro' the rye.

Gin a body meet a body
Coming thro' the rye,
Gin a body kiss a body;
Need a body cry?

Gin a body meet a body
Coming thro' the glen,
Gin a body kiss a body;
Need the warld ken?

            -- Robert Burns

The flowers are pretty
the weathers no more a pitty
The weather is warm
the thawn is no longer bare
their is fresh air
their are happy bears

LL @ ya, Winnie Thank you for this happy poem!

Winnie: nice poem winnie!

wär's nicht wider die natur mein stern ich folgte deiner spur ...
(c) lostlyrics equipoise for sue anne ... ~*~

Just curious, why equipoise? It is an anabolic steroid used mostly in animals. I know ...

Andromedical: are you okay ?
you are not blaming me for abuse of semantics by pharmacy industry right ? ~*~ .

My mum gives orders around the house,
to everyone, as well as the mouse.
If I don't jump and clean my room
my mum goes red and then goes boom.

Bebs:Great rhymes Bro!You just have to add some street-like fell to it ...you know what mean?
Peace YO!

bravo! bravo!

OH, I like that one Bebs!

thanks

The boss in my house is my dad.
when he sees me he is so glad.
He always tries to give me kisses,
but I just duck and he always misses.

My brother thinks he is so cool
He stays in bed and keeps the rule.
He doesn't get up 'til after ten
and at eleven goes to bed again.

One fine day, in the middle of the night,
two dead men got up to fight.
Back to back, they faced each other,
drew their swords and shot each other.

We three kings of Orient are,
One in a taxi,
One in a car,
One on a scooter,
Blowing his hooter,
Smoking a big cigar.

When the sun goes down and the moon comes up
and the old swing creacks in the dark,
that's when we go to the park,
me and Loopy and Little Gee,
all three.
Softly down the staircase,through haunty hall,
trying to look, small,
me and Loopy
and Little Gee,
we three.
It's shivery
out in the dark
on our way to the park,
down the dustbin alley,
past the ruined mill,
so still,
just me and Loopy
and Little Gee,
just three.
And Little Gee
doesn't like it.
He's scared
of the things
he might see
in the park
in the dark
with Loopy and me
That's me and Loopy
and Little Gee,
the three.
There might be
moon wiches
or man-eating trees
or wetheres that wobble
or old Scrawny Shins
or hairy hobgoblines,
or black boggarts' knees
in the trees,
or things we can't see,
me and Loopy
and Little Gee,
all three.
But there's not,
says Loopy,
and I agree,
and Little Gee
gats up on my back and
we pass the Howl Tree,
me and Loopy
and Little Gee.
We heroes,
we three.
In the park,In the dark
by the lake and the bridge,
that's when we see were we wont to be,
me and Loopy and Little Gee
WHOOPEE!
and we swing and we slide and we dance
and we jump and we chase
all over the place,
me and Loopy and Little Gee,
the Big Three.
And then the THING comes YAAAAAAAAiIIIOOOOOEEEEEEE!.
RUN RUN RUN shouts Little Gee to Loopy and me
and we flee,
me and Loopy and Little Gee,
scared three.
Back where we've come through the park
in the dark
and the THING is roaring and following,
see?
After me and Loopy and Little Gee,
we three.
Up to the house,
to the stair,
to bed where we ought to be,
me Loopy and Little Gee,
all three.

Hello

We are currently looking for a new moderator of this board. Are you interested?

More Information: Check out the Members only board

To Apply: Just Send me a Message

PLEASE do not post if here since I may miss it, just send me a message. Also feel free to send me a message with any questions.

You are the town and we are the clock
We are the guardians of the gate in the rock
The Two
On your left and on your right
In the day and in the night,
We are watching you

Wiser not to ask just what has occurred
To them who disobeyed our word;
To those
We were the whirlpool, we were the reef, We were the formal nightmare, grief
And the unlucky rose

Climb up the crane, learn the sailor's words
When the ships from the islands laden with birds
Come in
Tell your stories of fishing and other men's wives:
The expansive moments of constricted lives
In the lighted inn

But do not imagine we do not know
Nor that what you hide with such care won't show
At a glance
Nothing is done, nothing is said,
But don't make the mistake of believing us dead:
I shouldn't dance

We're afraid in that case you'll have a fall
We've been watching you over the garden wall
For hours
The sky is darkening like a stain,
Something is going to fall like rain
And it won't be flowers

When the green field comes off like a lid
Revealing what was much better hid:
Unpleasant
And look, behind you without a sound
The woods have come up and are standing 'round
In deadly crescent

The bolt is sliding in its groove,
Outside the window is the black removers' van
And now with sudden swift emergence
Come the woman in dark glasses and humpbacked surgeons
And the scissors man

This might happen any day
So be careful what you say
Or do
Be clean, be tidy, oil the lock,
Trim the garden, wind the clock,
Remember the Two


-W.H. Auden

Humbug was severed in her head
I tried to think of what she said
But cleaving permafrost dispute
Kept anchored her by bad repute.

(c) lostlyrics ... ~*~

The piers are pummelled by the waves;
In a lonely field the rain
Lashes an abandoned train;
Outlaws fill the mountain caves

Fantastic grow the evening gowns;
Agents of the Fisc pursue
Absconding tax-defaulters through
The sewers of provincial towns

Private rites of magic send
The temple prostitutes to sleep;
All the literati keep
An imaginary friend

Cerebrotonic Cato may
Extol the Ancient Disciplines
But the muscle-bound Marines
Mutiny for food and pay

Caesar's double-bed is warm
As an unimportatnt clerk
Writes "I DO NOT LIKE MY WORK"
On a pink official form

Unendowed with wealth or pity
Little birds with scarlet legs
Sitting on their speckled eggs
Eye each flu-infected city

Altogether elsewhere, vast
Herds of reindeer move across
Miles and miles of golden moss
Silently and very fast

-W.H. Auden

It's a world of laughter
A world of tears
It's a world of hopes
And a world of fears
There's so much that we share
That it's time we're aware
It's a small world after all

There is just one moon
And one golden sun
And a smile means
Friendship to ev'ryone
Though the mountains divide
And the oceans are wide
It's a small world after all

It's a small world after all
It's a small world after all
It's a small world after all
It's a small, small world

           ~ Sherman & Sherman

       - Prologue-

Walking through the city after recent rain
heard ancient stones all shining murmur where are they?
How long before next hero's day
and the splendid show of drum and gun.

Walking by the river one September eve
saw questions rise in circles on that old dark stream.
Where now are those who dared to dream they would leave one jewel in England's hand.

Gone to sleep they lie in flowered graves
for the visitors and Guidebook saved.
But come the trumpet shattered dawn
will the spirit they shared be reborn.

Comrades in arms, may they rise, fight and shine again,
till "who goes there", will be answered with friend again.

Once there stood a man, alone, sword in his hand.
In the face of the teeth and flame -
and it was all in England's name.

I was told how she grew, she alone shone her light on everyone.
And if you made the first eleven then you'd be sure to get to heaven,
like the captain of the school.

I was taught how to win
and to lose with that "get you next time" smile,
Learned Latin verbs in fear of a beating
and for years thought central heating,
was for just old people's homes.
I was raised on the past, the Tower and Saint Paul's and Westminster
escorted well-bred girls to dances, and learned to drive a horse in harness,
through the English countryside.

I was taught to behave, like an officer and a gentleman,
and when I finally marched from Sandhurst
I learned to put my fellow man first
and there was daily talk of war.
I spent 1938 in the United States of America,
I grew to love its many faces, and they had built some amazing places,
and I thought they´d come in on our side.


       - Love at first sight -

Girls, oh there were girls
but they were just part of the social whirl
and I never took much notice
until the night that I met you.

Standing out there alone
out on the terrace under the moon
from the moment that I kissed you
my life turned into a dream.

I knew I loved you at first sight
and that you loved .. me.
Was it really happening, or was it a dream ?

I asked if you'd be mine
feeding the white doves by the Serpentine and when you said forever
I know that I almost cried.

You all in white
the tears and the laughing
nearly losing the damn ring
Yes, I do ... Yes, I will... keep you from harm.

Those few short days
we spent together
remembered forever
all the plans - for the house and for the children.

I know I loved you at first sight
and that you loved..me.
Did it really happen then, or was it a dream ?

I knew when I saw your face
opening orders, the time and the place
oh, don't worry it won't last long
and I won't be far away
I'll try to write every day.....


       - Letters from the front -

Got your letters at the front today
if you like the house we´ll buy it straight away.
Yes, it´s great now you´re a full-time nurse
but do be careful with the air-raids - getting worse.

Must end now .. the push is on...we´re moving out...
all my love...see you soon.

I'm writing to you on a convoy moving west
it's hell out here but we´re all trying to do our best.
I learned today that I get two weeks leave in June
this time I promise you a real honeymoon.

Must end now...take care my love...you're all the world
to me my love...see you soon.

The telegram...dropped from my hand
she was all I had...I just don't understand
I see her now...in that white dress she wore
Those eyes and that smile
no one else...nevermore.

Decorations and respect inside the club aren't compensation when you lose the one you love.
But in the end, all that is left
Is the regiment and what it means
to be...an officer and a gentleman...


            -- Peter Sinfield

Rainey: There's more where that come from ;)

In honor of Constitution Day...




What are we fighting for,
We fellows who go to war?
fighting for Freedom's sake!
(You give me the belly-ache.)
Freedom to starve or slave!
Freedom! aye, in the grave.
Fighting for "hearth and home"
Who haven't an inch of loam?
Hearth? Why even a byre
Can only be ours for hire.
Dying for future peace?
Killing that killing cease?
To hell with such tripe, I say.
"Sufficient unto the day."

It isn't much fun being dead
Better to lie in bed
Cuddle up to the wife
Making, not taking life
To the corpse that stinks in the clay
Does it matter who wins the day?
What odds if tyrants reign?
They can't put irons on the brain
One always can eat one's grub
Smoke and drink in a pub
There's happiness in a glass
A pipe and the kiss of a lass
It's the best we get anyhow
In the life we are living now

Who's wanting a hero's fate?
To the dead cheers come too late
Flesh is softer than steel;
Wounds are weary to heal
In the maniac hell of the fray
Who is there dares to say?
"Hate will be vanquished by Love;
God's in His Heaven above."

When those who govern us lead
The lads they command to bleed;
When rulers march at the head
And statesmen fall with the dead;
When Kings leap into the fray
Fight in the old-time way
Perish beside their men
Maybe, O maybe then
War will be part of the past
Peace will triumph at last

Meantime such lads as I
Who wouldn't have harmed a fly
Have got to get out and kill
Lads whom we bear no ill;
As simple as we, no doubt
Who seek what it's all about;
Who die in defence of - what?
Homes that they haven't got;
Who perish when all they ask
is to finish the daily task;
Make bread for the little ones
Not feed the greed of the guns
When fields of battle are red
And diplomats die in bed


          -- Robert Service

AD and Kipling for making Mod.