So don't you weep
You think that you're a mess
That you're not good enough
But I tell you you're wrong
I think you're too tough
You've got a great smile
And a good head on your shoulders
Just wait a while
And the hurt will all be over
I know it's not easy
I know life seems...
..And it is told that he made his way through their streets at night,
crawling through their many windows and crouching in their gardens,
moving through the sewers beneath their cobbled roads and
slipping over their railings.
Watched by their cats and the roosting pigeons of...
and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even the dull and ignorant; they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive...
thou Hill! where early joy
Spread roses o'er my brow;
Where Science seeks each loitering boy
With knowledge to endow.
Adieu, my youthful friends or foes,
Partners of former bliss or woes;
No more through Ida's paths we stray;
Soon must I share the gloomy cell,
I never knew there would be a better tomorrow
But you've come into my life and taken away all my sorrow
My days of sadness are a thing of the past
Because I have found...
...to anyone who reads it today. It is an Indian poem.
This day is a special day,
It is yours.
Yesterday slipped away
It cannot be filled with more meaning.
About tomorrow nothing is known.
but this day, today is yours,
Make use of it.
Today you can make someone...
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
Write, for example,'The night is shattered
and the blue stars shiver in the distance.'
The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
Through nights like this one I held her in my arms
(One of my fav. poems, its divided into five sections but i love the first and the last section the most..)
We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
B. "Banjo" PatersonIt was the man from Ironbark who struck the Sydney town,He wandered over street and park, he wandered up and down.He loitered here, he loitered there, till he was like to drop,Until at last in sheer despair he sought a barber's shop."'Ere! shave my beard and...
1874 – January 29, 1963)
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better...
WordsworthShe was a Phantom of delightWhen first she gleamed upon my sight;A lovely Apparition, sentTo be a moment's ornament;Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair;Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair;But all things else about her drawnFrom May-time and the cheerful Dawn;A dancing...
when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to...
When my 47 year old daughter died two years ago, a friend sent me this poem, it was a great comfort to me and I thought I would share it.
If tomorrow starts without me,
And I'm not there to see,
If the sun should rise and find your eyes
All filled with tears for me;
begin with a box, and the plural is boxes,
But the plural of ox becomes oxen, not oxes.
One fowl is a goose, but two are called geese,
Yet the plural of moose should never be meese.
You may find a lone mouse or a nest full of mice,
Yet the plural of house is houses, not hice...
my voice be still
As it was before
I will speak no more
I shall abide until
I am spoken for
If it be your will
If it be your will
That a voice be true
From this broken hill
I will sing to you
From this broken hill
All your praises they shall ring
If it be your will...
1795 – 23 February 1821)
You say you love ; but with a voice
Chaster than a nun's, who singeth
The soft Vespers to herself
While the chime-bell ringeth-
O love me truly!
You say you love; but with a smile
Cold as sunrise in September,
As you were Saint Cupid 's nun...
and it never left me. Sometimes things, whether it's a poem, a lyric, a painting, a piece of music, just speak to you like that. This is one of those things.
Will you be my friend?
There are so many reasons why you never should:
I'm sometimes sullen, often shy, acutely...
It came with my pea sea.
It plane lee marks four my revue
Miss steaks aye can knot sea.
Eye ran this poem threw it,
Your sure reel glad two no.
Its vary polished in it's weigh.
My checker tolled me sew.
A checker is a bless sing,
It freeze yew lodes of thyme...
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 5
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the...
this to a deeper roar?
What would it take my standing there for,
Holding open a restive door,
Looking down hill to a frothy shore?
Summer was past and the day was past.
Sombre clouds in the west were massed.
Out on the porch's sagging floor,
Leaves got up in a coil and hissed...
may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and...
compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair...
severs those it should unite;
Let us remain together still,
Then it will be good night.
How can I call the lone night good,
Though thy sweet wishes wing its flight?
Be it not said, thought, understood --
Then it will be -- good night.
To hearts which near each other move
When I am dying, let me know
That I loved the blowing snow
Although it stung like whips;
That I loved all lovely things
And I tried to take their stings
With gay unembittered lips;
That I loved with all my strength,
To my soul's full depth and length,
Careless if my heart...
Comes the Dawn
After awhile you learn the subtle difference
Between holding a hand and chaining a soul.
And you learn that love doesn't mean leaning
And company doesn't mean security.
And you begin to understand that kisses aren't contracts
And presents aren't promises...
To you whom history would never honour
To you whom the statistics never mention
To you whom no song would ever be sung
To you whom the books have all shun
To you who work and toil under the radar
To you who have loved and cared
To you who have been many girls dream
To you who...
that good night -Sir Dylan Thomas.
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go...
The Owl and the *****-cat went to sea
In a beautiful pea-green boat,
They took some honey, and plenty of money,
Wrapped up in a five-pound note.
The Owl looked up to the stars above,
And sang to a small guitar,
"O lovely *****! O *****, my love,
furry coat and his gauzy wing.
Now in a lily-cup, and now
Setting a jacinth bell a-swing,
In his wandering;
Sit closer love: it was here I trow
I made that vow,
Swore that two lives should be like one
As long as the sea-gull loved...
night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
With every Good-bye
After a while you learn the subtle difference
Between holding a hand, and chaining a soul
And you learn that love doesn.t mean leaning
And company does not mean security
And you begin to learn that kisses aren.t contracts,
And presents aren.t promises...
Close your eyes my little one
Close your eyes and dream
You can be anyone,
Anyone you dream
You can go anywhere,
Just close your eyes and dream your dreams
Let your imagination take control
Take you on adventures never told
we will sail away on oceans
and in a haze of chenillens and juniper spines from the great valley of humming gongs, on ships that sail away forever
In unexplained light reflected from the spine of a metallic viper, I'll seal your radiant kiss, my lover
I love ee cummings and his words and weird punctuation touch me to the core. I think my favorite poem by this magnificent man is "I Carry Your Heart With Me."i carry your heart with me
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere...
I ’d brush the summer by
With half a smile and half a spurn,
As housewives do a fly.
If I could see you in a year,
I ’d wind the months in balls,
And put them each in separate drawers,
Until their time befalls.
If only centuries delayed,
The night has a thousand eyes,
And the day but one;
Yet the light of the bright world dies
With the dying sun
The mind has a thousand eyes,
And the heart but one ;
Yet the light of a whole life dies
When love is done.
~ Francis William Bourdillon
He smiled -- so did I.
He crumpled the skin on his forehead, frowning -- so did I.
Everything I did he did.
I said, "Hello, I know you."
I was a liar to say so.
Ah, this looking-glass man!
Liar, fool, dreamer, play-actor,
Solider, dusty drinker of dust--
Near where the charter'd Thames does flow.
And mark in every face I meet
Marks of weakness, marks of woe.
In every cry of every Man,
In every Infants cry of fear,
In every voice: in every ban,
The mind-forg'd manacles I hear
How the Chimney-sweepers cry...